


Heaven's Birds and Ocean Waves

by dayoldcupcake



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Time Skip, fighting & making up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayoldcupcake/pseuds/dayoldcupcake
Summary: As Atsumu and Hinata navigate their new long-distance relationship, a visit to São Paulo and the ensuing battle for Hinata's attention forces Atsumu to accept that everything may not be as flawless as he once thought.( ★ art included! ★ )
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 57
Kudos: 198
Collections: AtsuHina Exchange





	1. (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boomturkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomturkey/gifts).



> Hello! When I saw the prompt about Atsumu visiting Hinata in São Paulo, which it turns out, was very popular in this Exchange, I took a sharp left into Angst while everyone else drove right into Fluff. Maybe I needed to take out some feelings about Hinata breaking up the MSBY dream team, I dunno.
> 
> I'm usually a Fluff/Humor writer so this was me trying a lot of new things and I welcome (!! POLITE !!) constructive feedback since this is a genre I'd like to be able to do better in the future.
> 
> My deepest thanks to my many friends who coddled me through the process of writing, re-writing, and editing this thing, as well as the mods of the Atsuhina Exchange for planning and hosting the event, and of course BoomTurkey for the lovely prompts that inspired it in the first place!
> 
> Thanks very much for reading!

Hinata Shoyo was an exceptionally beautiful and destructive force. He exploded into people's lives like a supernova, only to then disappear without a trace, leaving his victims dazed and a little more hollow than before he'd found them.

It wasn't malicious; quite the contrary, Hinata loved everyone, collected friends and rivals like Pokémon, but he was always racing off to his next adventure, and the result was a rapidly-growing population scattered around the world, missing his unique form of sunshine and wondering when or if they'd ever see him again.

Atsumu remembered the first time he saw Hinata, at Nationals in his second year. As a smart guy, focused and not easily distracted from his sole passion, the memory of being blinded dumb by Hinata was unforgettable. It was one thing to be smitten by Hinata's volleyball skills, but another entirely to be haunted by scandalous dreams that distracted him from the game altogether.

Then the following year—Atsumu had waited, eager to see him again, his eyes searching for that mess of orange hair. For days he'd tried to build up the courage to approach Hinata and ask for his number, so they could stay in contact after graduation. But then Osamu had caught Atsumu sneaking glances and called him out on it, just moments before he was about to walk over—and he _was_ going to ask Hinata that time, really—and what was probably intended to be a light ribbing instantly disintegrated the meager confidence Atsumu had scrounged together.

In the end, he never did work up the nerve. Atsumu and Hinata completely lost touch, leaving behind only a few brief memories for four long years. 

But then Hinata—sweet, charming, ball of energy and optimism Hinata—came blazing back into Atsumu's life and changed everything, and his appearance came at a time that truly seemed like divine intervention. Atsumu was doubting his decision to go pro in the first place, uninspired by his old serves, humiliated following a bungled fan event, annoyed with his teammates, and frustrated with his brother for daring to seem happier than him.

And Hinata remembered Atsumu too, apparently.

Over the course of their first year together, and across multiple drunken evenings, Hinata regaled Atsumu with stories that made clear he had been paying just as close attention to Atsumu as Atsumu had been to him.

During their second season, they grew even closer, as a team but especially as a duo. Hinata liked to arrange road trips and weekend outings, and no matter how much Atsumu pretended to need to mull it over or check with his entirely empty social calendar, he always attended. These "team bonding activities" often ended up just the same four old friends from high school. Sakusa always departed first, with Bokuto slipping away soon after, often with increasing wink-winks in Atsumu's direction.

Nothing ever happened, though. Atsumu was blowing this chance too, despite how lovingly the universe had gift-wrapped it for him.

Then came the offer from Asas São Paulo. Hinata announced his departure from the Jackals and somewhere in the gym, someone slammed a door shut.

Atsumu found it very fitting.

* * *

It didn't take long after that for Atsumu's life to return to its depressing, pre-Hinata state, and Hinata hadn't even left Japan yet. One month after his announcement, they were at the after-after party of Hinata's grand farewell from the Black Jackals.

As the hours crept late into the night, the others had trickled away, leaving only Hinata, Atsumu, and Bokuto. They were at a small karaoke bar in Osaka; in the background some ancient-looking man was unabashedly belting out the lyrics to a Girls Generation song in an ear-splitting falsetto. Atsumu was bent over the bar, his cheek glued to the counter. It was sticky, probably hadn't been wiped down in hours, but he didn't care.

He felt a strong hand smack him across the back and let out a hoarse gasp.

"You okay there, Tsum-Tsum?" Bokuto asked, laughing.

Atsumu just sighed, rolling his eyes. Bokuto was standing over him, as was Hinata.

Hinata chewed on his lip. "You should drink some water."

"M'fine," Atsumu mumbled. _I'm not fine_ , he thought, turning his head away from them and feeling his nose drag through something viscous. It smelled like fermented strawberries.

"I've got him," Hinata said, seemingly addressing Bokuto. "You should go home."

Atsumu felt another hard _smack_ on his back and grunted, then some muttered discussion between Hinata and Bokuto that he didn't bother trying to discern. There was the scrape of a bar stool, and then a much more gentle feeling across his upper back, of an arm sliding across his shoulders. He melted against the cool wood of the bar top, a long, low groan escaping him. His body tensed then, and he cursed.

The arm stilled for a moment; obviously, Hinata had heard all of this. Atsumu briefly wished for death, but then Hinata's hand found his hair and started to stroke it. Despite his inner turmoil, Atsumu relaxed again. This wasn't an unfamiliar thing; from Hinata's very first day with the Jackals, they had gravitated toward each other. This was just another way to relax a buddy's nerves before a game. It was a way to bond as teammates.

"Are you going to be able to stand up?" Hinata asked.

Atsumu blinked a few times and turned his head again, slowly, carefully, not wanting to discourage Hinata from doing what he was doing. He hadn't actually been drinking very much; he was barely even tipsy, but perhaps playing himself off as drunk would be less humiliating in the end. "Yeah. M'fine."

"If I order you water, will you drink it?"

"M'older than ya," Atsumu grumbled, narrowing his eyes. "I'm yer sempai."

"So if I left, you could get home by yourself?"

Yes, he could, because he wasn't actually drunk... but he also didn't want Hinata to leave. Not yet. Not ever, really.

"Thought so," Hinata said, taking Atsumu's silence for a no. He raised his hand, grabbing the attention of the bartender, and a minute later slid a glass of water in front of Atsumu's face. "Sit up and drink."

It was always a nice feeling, when Hinata looked out for him. After the way Hinata's first trip to Nationals ended, it was no surprise he seemed to enjoy taking care of others, rather than needing to be the one babied. This wasn't the first time Atsumu had taken advantage of it. Too bad it was likely to be the last.

The thought made him drop his head again; it landed with a soft _thud_.

Hinata sighed, patting Atsumu's head, and then gently took him by the shoulders and pulled him up. He was strong now, weirdly strong, and Atsumu lifted easily. Hinata snorted, then started to laugh in earnest, and Atsumu sat up the rest of the way very suddenly with a frown.

"What? What!?"

"Your face," Hinata snickered, almost pointing but then dropping his hand. His mouth kept quirking up as he kept trying and failing to contain his laughter. "Your cheek is all red, and you've got goo on your nose..."

Atsumu scowled and started to rub at his nose with the back of his hand, but it was too sticky and didn't come off easily. Hinata poured some of the water onto a napkin and held it up with a grin. Atsumu sighed, dropping his arm, and allowed Hinata to lean in close—closer than necessary, in Atsumu's opinion—to wipe his nose and cheek clean.

"M'older than ya," Atsumu repeated, averting his eyes.

"I'm going to miss you," Hinata mumbled, dabbing Atsumu's nose one last time before tossing the used napkin aside.

Atsumu reached for the glass of water and sipped it, needing to distract himself from Hinata's words and his closeness and the fact that they were alone together—reminding himself that it didn't matter, because Hinata was _leaving_. It was too late for anything to happen.

Hinata was watching him; Atsumu could see it out of the corner of his eye. He took a big gulp of water, wondering what time it was.

"I've always liked you, Atsumu," Hinata said.

Atsumu immediately choked but managed only a few sputtering coughs before he got it under control. He continued to hold onto the glass as though it was some kind of lifeline, but his hand was shaking, the liquid in the glass sloshing around. "I uh, like ya too, Shoyo."

"As your teammate?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Only as your teammate?" Hinata pressed.

"Wha—" Atsumu looked up then and made the mistake of meeting Hinata's gaze. His eyes were as intense as ever, golden and fiery and focused on Atsumu.

"Sorry," Hinata said with a chuckle, leaning back and putting a hand over his face. "I thought— and Sakusa and Bokuto said they thought— ugh. Sorry, maybe _I'm_ the one who drank too much."

"What?" Atsumu said again, not registering any of this.

"I thought maybe you liked me back," Hinata finally confessed, cheeks pink.

He did, of course, and had since high school. Wasn't it too late though? Hinata was leaving for Brazil in two short months. Their time together on the Jackals was over.

"I— what?"

"Are you okay?" Hinata asked, concern overtaking his embarrassment. "Do you need more water? Some fresh air?"

"Huh?"

"Let's get you home," Hinata murmured, reaching over to slide a hand across Atsumu's shoulder. Just this touch left his skin tingling, wanting more.

Hinata paid the tab with his free hand, then slid off his stool with an unsteady landing. He guided Atsumu down next, holding Atsumu's elbow as he helped him down, even though it was now clear Hinata was the drunker one. They left the bar together and headed down the street toward the row of parked taxis, Hinata taking the lead.

Atsumu's pace slowed with each step. He really didn't want to reach those cabs. When they did, Hinata would climb in, go home to his apartment, pack for Brazil, and then disappear forever. Atsumu would never get a third chance.

Even if they both made the national team—which, at least, was likely—it wouldn't be the same. There would be too many other familiar and appealing people to compete with. These two years were his chance, but he blew them. Five minutes ago, Hinata _confessed_ and he _froze_ like a complete idiot.

A lifetime of prioritizing volleyball, and Atsumu had left himself with no other skills.

All that, and he wasn't even the best setter in Japan anymore.

Atsumu looked up to see that Hinata was suddenly far ahead. The first driver had already spotted him and was opening the door. Atsumu sprinted forward without thinking.

His mouth wasn't working—he couldn't find any words—so he just reached out and grabbed the back of Hinata's shirt, yanking him backward.

"Uwaah— what? What the hell?" Hinata spun on his heels, arm swinging, and whacked Atsumu hard in the face, the back of his hand connecting with Atsumu's nose.

Atsumu stumbled back but managed to find his footing in time.

Hinata's eyes went wide. He quickly folded into a deep bow.

"Sorry! Atsumu! Sorry! I'm— I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! Sorry! I thought you were—" Hinata stammered, but it fell silent as soon as he finally looked up again.

Rubbing his stinging nose with a hiss, the hint of a tear in one eye, Atsumu sighed and shook his head. "Some kinda Brazilian mugger? Yer still in Japan, stupid."

"I said I'm sorry!" Hinata wailed again, hanging his head.

"I forgive ya," Atsumu muttered, shaking his head. "Yer lucky I like ya."

"You do?"

"Yeah." He sighed, taking a deep breath. "And I'll— I'll miss settin' for ya too."

"I really like your tosses, Atsumu," Hinata replied, his voice wavering slightly. "But I won't have to miss them if you just make the national team, like I plan to!"

Atsumu frowned, the phrase _second-best_ rattling around in his head. "Won't Tobio be there?"

"I eventually got better than him, with your help." Hinata stepped forward and placed both hands on Atsumu's shoulders, beaming. "You can too, with mine!"

"Brazil is very far away," Atsumu pointed out stupidly.

"There are planes."

"There are lotsa people in Brazil."

"There are a lot of people in Japan, too." Hinata took another step forward, closing the gap between them. He looked up; their faces were just a few inches apart. "What's your point?"

"Um—"

"I've always liked you," Hinata repeated, his mouth set in a straight line. "More than anyone else I've ever met. More than anyone I'll meet in Brazil, probably. What about you, huh? Got anything to say to me?" He looked determined, but there was an underlying sorrow there too.

Perhaps it wasn't such an easy choice for him to leave the Jackals after all.

Atsumu tried to form six years of pathetic obsession into words and failed. He ended up just staring at Hinata and wishing he could keep talking for the both of them, but Hinata was clearly demanding an answer this time.

So instead, Atsumu ducked down and captured Hinata's lips with his own.

There was a brief moment where Atsumu winced, just in case he was about to get hit again, and a hand did come at him, but only to grip his hair and jerk his head further down. Hinata's lips were warm, though his breath smelled a little like booze when he laughed breathlessly. Atsumu distantly wondered why he was so amused, then he felt Hinata's tongue licking at him, requesting entrance, and he realized his lips were glued shut. He remedied this quickly, parting them, his own hands sliding to Hinata's waist.

Hinata took over, guiding his head and pulling him even further down, until Atsumu was nearly bent in half. Drunk or not, Hinata clearly knew what he was doing, one hand fisted in his hair, the other gently cupping his cheek.

Atsumu was just grateful not to be completely inexperienced, even if his few times were short-lived, always with people who were tossed aside right away for being too tall and not cheerful enough, their hair always not quite... bright enough.

When Hinata pulled away suddenly, Atsumu panicked, wondering if he did something wrong. Then Hinata started tugging him toward the taxis. Atsumu stumbled after him, mouth open but still no words forming.

"On second thought, I'm not sure I should put you in a taxi by yourself," Hinata said, ducking into the nearest cab and sliding onto the back seat. He turned then, to poke his head back out. "Maybe you should come back with me?"

"Uh— oh. _Oh._ Right! Yeah. Good idea. I— yes." Atsumu nodded and nodded, then dove into the taxi a little too eagerly, landing half on top of Hinata as the door swung shut behind him, nearly smacking his dangling legs.


	2. Chapter 2

Six months later, things are going surprisingly well despite the long distance. Atsumu's complete lack of a social life outside his team and his brother no longer feels crushing when combined with Hinata's constant stream of text messages, phone and video calls, physical letters and care packages, and—the real treasure—the monthly trips.

They meet every month, regardless of whether they've only got a day or weeks to spend together. This is important to both of them, to stay physically connected until the off-season when Hinata can return to Japan to live with Atsumu for a longer stretch of time, ideally while they both get to play together on the national team. Without these visits, Hinata's texts and photos would be little more than torments, reminders of what Atsumu once had at his fingertips, now thousands of miles away.

It's Atsumu's first serious relationship, but even he can tell they're moving fast.

Hinata always excuses it away by saying they were six years in the making and are both happy, so who cares? Atsumu can never argue with that, especially with Hinata naked and curled against him, as he often is during these discussions.

They already met this month, but it was only a day and a half, their schedules conflicting badly for the first time. Atsumu said it was fine, and Hinata had smiled and assured him of the same. Meeting halfway as usual, in London, it wasn't fine, and both had to drag their feet back to their respective gates at Heathrow. The day he landed back in Japan, Atsumu begun planning this expedition.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

He isn't feeling especially confident anymore though, as he looks around the arrival area of Congonhas airport. He's missing a game for the first time in his _entire_ volleyball career—something he's _never_ done, not even in elementary school, back when Samu had a habit of aiming his sneezes at Atsumu every time he was sick.

In exchange for the sacrifice, however, Atsumu gets eight days of freedom. He loses three of those to travel—he and Hinata always meet in Europe for a reason—but the rest of the time, Hinata is free.

That's five days alone with Hinata in São Paulo, in an apartment Atsumu has the key to but has never visited before.

Atsumu didn't tell Hinata he was coming; it's meant to be a surprise, but it eats away at him as he pops a Brazilian SIM card into his phone.

As he boots it up and connectivity bars start appearing in the top corner, dozens of messages from Hinata _ding_ , one after another in quick succession, the result of thirty-six hours of neglect. He smiles. It's not something he ever thought he'd find so charming.

_[Shoyo has sent a photo.]_

_tsumu_

_Oi_

_tsumutsumutsumu_

_are you okay_

_[Missed call.]_

_OI >:(_

_oh SORRY forgot you did say you were going to be busy for a while_

_are you still busy_

_TSUMUUUU_

_fine I gotta go get natsu from the airport_

_i was hoping we could talk before that :(_

_you know_

_"talk"_

_;)_

_okay gg bye_

_GOT HER_

_[Shoyo has sent a photo.]_

_text me back when you can_

_but i'll be busy for the next few days :(_

_remember my sister is here so be careful what photos you send me!!!!_

_what are you so busy with_

_tsumu_

_tsumutsumutsumu_

_:|_

Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit. Hinata did mention that Natsu was coming for a visit, but they'd video chatted right after, and things had gotten a little... well, distracting, so he'd forgotten all about it.

SHIT.

Atsumu falls backward onto his suitcase, leaning against it as he stares at his phone glumly. The fleeting burst of adrenaline seeps out of him like a balloon that's been punctured, the lack of sleep and hours of travel suddenly slamming into him full-force. His bus to Hinata's part of town leaves in twenty minutes. He has his Brazilian _real_ , his key, his international phone, and _he missed a game_ to be here.

At least... it still could be fun, maybe, the three of them on a trip together. He hasn't met Natsu before, but chicks always love him, even when their big brothers don't talk him up, which Hinata obviously has.

He takes a few breaths and then starts to type.

_How long is Natsu..._

Pausing, he hits _backspace_ until the screen is clear, and then hangs his head.

His phone buzzes seconds later.

_OI ASSHOLE_

_you mad at me????_

He blinks down at the screen, eyes wide. The only way Hinata could have seen that is if he were staring at their text history at that very moment. Atsumu answers right away.

_No!_

Hinata's reply comes fast and furious and full of typos.

_i saw te bubble!! then you stoppd!! you haven't eplied to me in two days!!! WHAT THE HELL_

Atsumu hurries to respond.

_I'm sorry! I was thinkin'!_

_How long is Natsu visitin' ya?_

_three more days. she's taking a bath right now. you free for a call??_

Atsumu glances up. The airport is bustling; people's chatter, suitcase wheels dragging across tile flooring, and muffled announcements mesh together to form a cacophony of noise.

_Can't right now._

Watching as the bubbles appear and then vanish, Atsumu just knows how his boyfriend must look at this moment, with his nose scrunched up like an angry little badger, his eyes narrowed.

Standing suddenly, Atsumu pockets his phone and grabs his suitcase, hurrying toward the bus.

* * *

Atsumu stands in a narrow hallway of an apartment building, on the doorstep to Hinata's home abroad—at least, he _thinks_ it's the right address, as he's never seen it in person. His knuckles hover an inch from the door. Atsumu knows they're probably home, since Hinata said Natsu was taking a bath, but was too afraid the entire bus ride to admit what he'd done, so this is all still a big surprise.

He never had a chance to change at the airport or on the bus either, so he's still in the same Jackals athletic wear he's had on for almost two full days now. Best not to think about how he smells.

He knocks and waits. Nothing.

Knocking several more times, he then presses his ear to the door, first eyeing up and down the hallway, checking for nosey neighbors.

He tries the doorknob; it's locked. Finally, digging the key out of his pocket, he lets himself in.

Atsumu pushes open the door.

The first thing he sees is a small kitchen with an open bar area and two stools. Beside it is a small square table with four chairs, and then a larger room with a couch, coffee table, and flat-screen TV. The space is very open, cluttered but clean. There are clothes strewn about, shoes scattered around the floor, and a mass of travel pamphlets and admission tickets piled on the couch. He then counts one, two, three Mikasa volleyballs, and suddenly knows for certain he's in the right place.

The sofa calls to him, a siren's song to his weary body and foggy mind, so he begins tidying up to distract himself from the temptation. He collects Hinata's many scattered hoodies and jackets and hangs them on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, charmed by Hinata's disorder as well as his bizarre ability to feel chilly even in this tropical climate.

Eyeing the clock on the wall, Atsumu arranges the papers and relocates them to the coffee table, then takes a seat on the couch and pulls out his phone to text Hinata again.

_Whatcha doin' now?_

_dinner. you always text me when i'm busy i'm starting to think it's on purpose_

_Sorry._

After two minutes without a reply, Atsumu glances up to take in more details of Hinata's apartment. The walls are decorated with framed art prints, fairly cheap-looking, probably purchased from street markets. Hinata is clearly drawn to bright colors; the prints are all of birds and flowers and vibrant sunsets.

Despite the radiance of the room, Atsumu's head continues to feel heavier and heavier, and starts dipping toward the nearest throw pillow, but then something catches his eye—Hinata's old Jackals jersey, worn nearly to threads, crumpled into a ball and wedged half under the edge cushion of the couch.

Finally, his phone buzzes again.

_i miss you_

Atsumu smiles at the message, blinking weariness from his eyes, and feels some bravery return.

_What if I came an' visited ya?_

The bubbles appear, then stop, then appear, then stop, as Hinata struggles with his reply. He's torn, surely, between agreeing and just laughing it off, not willing to risk jeopardizing Atsumu's ability to make the national team this year.

Atsumu chews on his lip, fingers hovering over the screen, his brain trying to form the words to admit that he's already gone and done it.

Hinata continues to struggle with his reply, and finally Atsumu decides to end both their suffering.

He stands and yanks Hinata's #21 Jackals jersey free, and then flattens it out over the back of the couch. Snapping a picture, he ignores the pounding of his heartbeat as he sends it to Hinata along with the text,

_What exactly have ya been doin' to this?_

Hinata's reply comes immediately.

_what did you do_

* * *

They don't exchange any other texts or calls after Atsumu admits to what he's done, except for Hinata informing Atsumu that he plans to be back in under an hour. 

The struggle to stay awake while waiting for their return is one of the toughest of Atsumu's life. He briefly loses the battle, passing out on Hinata's couch for some time until the sound of knocking suddenly and cruelly yanks him back to wakefulness.

Head pounding, he scrambles to his feet and rushes over to the door where he stands and waits, swaying a little on his feet.

When it opens, he forces a smile and thinks about raising his arms or waving, but ultimately his hands end up buried in his pockets, too weary to think of anything clever.

"Surprise," Atsumu says, voice unsteady.

The Hinata siblings are dressed for a night out, Hinata in dark colors, a silky collared shirt and khakis, and Natsu beside him in an orange sundress and full make-up. Atsumu isn't sure where they were all day, besides dinner; he knows Hinata told him all about the plans for Natsu's trip, but he tended to space out whenever Hinata talked about Brazil.

Hinata takes a deep breath. His face is hard to read, whether he's happy or upset, Atsumu can't tell, but he's definitely overwhelmed. It almost seems like he didn't really expect to find Atsumu here.

"Tsumu."

Natsu is right behind him and steps into the apartment and around her frozen brother. She doesn't seem bothered at all, marching right over to Atsumu and peering up at him— _far up_ , as she's at least a foot and a half shorter than him, even though she's full-grown.

"Hello. My brother's told me very little about you."

Atsumu narrows his eyes at her, then looks back at Hinata.

He doesn't seem to have heard Natsu. He's still staring, unmoving, so Atsumu sighs and looks down at Natsu, forcing a smile. "Me an' yer brother need to talk in private for a bit, okay?"

"Nah," Natsu says, grabbing one of Hinata's limp arms with both of her own and pulling him further into the apartment. "I'm eighteen. Anything you want to say to him, you can say in front of me."

He lets his eyes slide shut, fully blacking out for a full two seconds before jerking back awake. Atsumu knows he should bite his tongue, but that's a struggle for him even on his very best day. "Kid, it's not the things I _say_ to him that I'm worried 'bout, it's the things that I _do_ to him—"

"You know," Hinata says, finally snapping out of it and interrupting with laughter that is way too loud, stuttery and disjointed, as he steps over to give Atsumu a few hard smacks on the shoulder. "Tsumu is clearly tired from his very long journey, and it's getting late, so. Maybe we can all go to sleep early tonight?"

"Good idea," Natsu says before Atsumu can beat her to it. She points to the couch. "There are blankets in the closet for you."

"I just traveled for a day an' a half," Atsumu mutters, eyeing it. He knows it's plenty comfortable, but that's not the problem. "I'm not sleeping on no couch."

Natsu smiles sweetly. "There's always the floor."

Atsumu hears himself growling softly but can't seem to muster the energy to quash it. "Why don't _ya_ sleep on the couch?"

"My brother and I have been sleeping in his room," Natsu counters. "And since I'm his actual, _invited_ guest, he surely wouldn't make me move all my stuff."

Atsumu and Natsu both turn on Hinata with matching frowns.

"Oh— well. I mean. I guess," Hinata glances between the two of them, looking very much like a puppy getting its tail pulled by two over-eager toddlers.

"You could— take my bed, Natsu," Hinata stutters. "And Tsumu and I could, um, sleep on futons on the floor out here?"

"Why?" she asks, her voice low and suspicious.

"It's not like that!" Hinata insists, waving his hands through the air as his face quickly turns a deep shade of red. "We just— we never get to see each other! We just want to _talk_! And, you know..."

"Practice your 'receives'?" Natsu accuses, crossing her arms. 

Hinata finally quietly mumbles the word _cuddle_ , but it's too late. 

"I was thinkin' we'd practice my receives, actually," Atsumu mutters under his breath. "I'm real tired."

Hinata sinks down to a crouch with his hands over his face.

"Oh my god, eww!" Natsu screeches.

Atsumu shrugs. "Ya started it."

Hinata groans softly from his curled-up position. "Both of you, please shut up." 

"Why don't we all just stay at a resort?" Atsumu suggests. "My treat, 'cuz this is my fault?"

"I want to stay with _my brother_ in _his apartment_ ," Natsu hisses, eyes narrowing. "But fine! If he calls our mom, right now, and tells her I'm going to stay in some strange place, _alone_ , so he can crawl into bed with his new boyfriend, then that's fine with me I guess." 

Hinata turns to Atsumu, face white. "It's just for three days." 

Atsumu feels his anger bubbling but struggles to contain it, letting out a deep breath. "Fine."

Eager to escape the tension, Hinata flees to his bedroom to dig out some extra bedding. The second he leaves the room, Natsu steps over to Atsumu and leans up on her tippy-toes to tap him on the shoulder.

"Hey," she whispers. "I'm not going to leave you two alone for even a second."

Atsumu side-eyes her, scowling. "Ya have to pee, an' bath, dontcha?"

Her smirk flickers for just a moment and her eyes narrow. "We'll see."

* * *

Jetlag is a new and horrible experience for Atsumu, as the clock ticks into the early hours of the morning. The exhaustion weighs down every inch of his limbs, and his head is achy and slow, but despite how much his body cries out for rest, he can't seem to just _sleep_.

From his spot on the living room floor, he glares at the door to Hinata's bedroom, blaming Natsu entirely for his restlessness. He's plenty comfortable, actually; Hinata sprung for good futons, but that's not the point. He didn't come all the way here to see the sights of Brazil.

Sure, maybe he shouldn't have said that stuff. It's not like he _actually_ expected them to have their normal level of... physical intimacy... with Natsu here. He was just tired, and annoyed, and said things he didn't mean. For Natsu to punish him in this way, though, after he crossed an ocean to be here—to have to _still_ be separated from Hinata by a door, is just cruel.

There's a creak, and Atsumu stirs. At some point, he must've finally dozed off. The clock shows it's just past two o'clock.

"Tsumu?"

"Sho?"

Atsumu lifts his head and blinks a few times, exhaustion causing his eyelids to stick. He groans, still half-asleep, but he finally has the sense to lift the blanket, inviting Hinata to join him.

"Sorry about my sister," Hinata mutters softly, immediately crawling onto the futon, half on top of Atsumu. He ducks his head into the crook of Atsumu's neck.

Atsumu drops the blanket back over them and pulls Hinata in close, sticking his face into Hinata's hair and taking several deep breaths. "Sorry I surprised ya."

"No. I'm glad," Hinata says, wrapping his arms around Atsumu's back. He fists Atsumu's shirt, gripping it tight and breathing in frantic, shallow breaths that tickle Atsumu's collarbone. "I really missed you."

"Do ya need to sneak back before she wakes up?"

Hinata just groans, nuzzling closer. "I should but. I don't care. We'll make her understand."

"She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," Hinata mumbles, not sounding convinced himself. "She's just— she's always been like this, since— my first girlfriend. She just doesn't like sharing my time with— other people."

Atsumu sighs. "And now I've gone an' crashed her trip with ya."

"No, it's fine. She'll learn to like you." Hinata releases his death grip on Atsumu's shirt and rubs his back consolingly. "She plays volleyball. And you're an amazing volleyball player!" He yawns. "And she likes, um." He yawns again. "Sweets, so buy her lots of sweets. She also really likes..." There's a long pause, during which Hinata's breathing starts to even out. "...Tropical birds."

Atsumu glances down as Hinata's drool starts trickling down the front of his shirt. He tries to imagine a sixteen-year-old Atsumu seeing this and being anything but disgusted. He snorts, shaking his head.

Sixteen-year-old Atsumu was an idiot.

Dropping his head back onto the pillow, Atsumu snakes an arm around Hinata's shoulders, his fingers lightly tickling the skin left exposed by Hinata's loose t-shirt.

Staring up at the ceiling with a lopsided smile, it finally hits him: after all the uncertainly, and after days of grueling travel, he's here. Hinata is happy to see him. They're together.

Hinata jerks back awake, blinking frantically. "Hey," he says, poking at Atsumu until he gets his attention, their eyes meeting. "It's your trip now too, so you need to tell me what you want to do!"

"I don't care."

"São Paulo is amazing!" Hinata whisper-shouts, loud enough that Atsumu winces and nervously glances toward the bedroom door. "Trust me! I'll get a bunch of travel pamphlets of things you might like, and then you can decide on two of them, okay?"

"Sure," Atsumu murmurs, closing his eyes and grinning as Hinata starts to ramble on and on about the sights of Brazil—the rainforests, the oceans, the mountains, the museums, the food, the music...

It's a strange sort of lullaby, Hinata's excited chatter, one familiar to Atsumu, although Hinata starting to slip into Portuguese without realizing, that's new. Atsumu allows sleep to finally, mercifully pull him under, choosing to focus on Hinata's now indecipherable babbling rather than thoughts of the coming morning, and how he'll have to woo Natsu after such a disastrous start.


	3. Chapter 3

Atsumu wakes up the next morning with the feeling of a swift, hard kick to the back of his knees.

"Hey!" He sits up suddenly, scowling. "What the fuck!?"

Hinata is pulled up along with Atsumu and whines, his eyes shut as he mumbles incoherently, still half-asleep.

"I'm telling Mom," Natsu hisses, waving her phone above her head. There's a picture of the two of them wrapped up together on the futon. Even with the blanket, it should be clear from the photo that they're dressed, both wearing t-shirts and shorts; nothing happened except some aggressive snuggling, but Hinata is suddenly very, very awake.

"No, nono," Hinata tries to stand, but his feet are still trapped under the futon. He falls flat on his face with a yelp, his chin hitting the floor, the thin rug doing little to soften the blow. Rolling onto his back, he clutches at his jaw, tears springing to his eyes. "Natsu, don't!"

Atsumu untangles himself from the blankets and crawls over to Hinata to pry his hands away and inspect his bruised chin. Once he determines that Hinata is not seriously injured, he glares up at Natsu.

"What's yer problem!?"

Natsu crosses her arms, the phone held protectively in the crook of her elbow, but says nothing. She's already fully dressed, hair tied up in a ponytail, wearing a fresh sundress over what appears to be a swimsuit, and clearly impatient to begin her day.

"Natsu," Hinata pleads, sliding onto his knees and peering up at her. "I've got such a good trip planned. I'm breaking so many of Mom's rules for you, like tomorrow, we're going to Pedra da Mina? She'd kill me!"

"And?" Natsu presses.

"And," Hinata says, sounding desperate. "Fine, okay, I'll take you to a bar, for _one_ night! Doesn't that make me a cool big brother?"

"I could always just tell her about your boyfriend's little visit, and that other stuff too, and then you'd be in even bigger trouble!"

"Not really," Atsumu interjects before Hinata can stammer out any more peace offerings. "Shoyo's an adult. He's got a job, his own apartment, an' his own money. Yer the one whose gotta go home an' live with mommy after this."

Natsu falls silent. Hinata turns to Atsumu and flashes a grateful smile.

"Fine," Natsu says, huffing and unfolding her arms. She unlocks her phone and taps some things, maybe deleting the photo. "I won't tell Mom about Tobio's understudy visiting."

"...My name is Atsumu," he corrects, resisting a sudden urge to lay face-down on the floor.

Natsu smiles. "I know. I just don't care."

Hinata sighs but doesn't press it further, just slowly pulls himself to his feet. Atsumu follows his lead, knowing he hasn't exactly given Natsu much reason to like him yet. It's not that he's incapable of laying on the charm, but he's never before tried with such a hostile recipient and only a few hours of sleep.

"So," Natsu mutters grumpily. "When were you two planning on getting ready?"

"Right, yes!" Hinata's whole face lights up as he turns to Atsumu. "I'm teaching her beach volleyball today."

"Oh," Atsumu says, as though he's just touched something particularly revolting.

"Oh!" Natsu says, spinning to face Atsumu and clapping her hands together. "Right, you play volleyball, so you'll join in too, right?"

"Uhh," Atsumu stammers, recalling Hinata's many stories of how difficult it was to adapt to sand but not wanting to give Natsu yet another reason to dislike him. "I play indoor volleyball."

"Volleyball is volleyball," Natsu counters.

"They're not the same sport, Natsu," Hinata scolds. "You know that."

She ignores her brother. "You're saying you can't learn? Aren't you a professional athlete?"

Hinata hisses. "Natsu!"

"Sorry!" She smirks, not looking remorseful in the slightest. "Don't you want to try though?"

Atsumu eyes Hinata. This isn't a great start.

"Volleyball is my job, an' this is vacation, so not really..." he mutters, trailing off. In reality, he's still exhausted from traveling, running on no sleep, and has zero interest in making a fool of himself in front of Hinata's sister or anyone else.

Natsu rolls her eyes and mutters 'lame' as she wanders off to begin packing.

Hinata hovers around both him and Natsu, needling them about what to bring and what to leave behind. Grabbing the largest backpack for himself, Hinata takes the volleyballs, sunblock, extra water, and plenty of snacks. In their own smaller bags, Natsu and Atsumu are both instructed to pack towels, a change of clothes, proper sandals ("no flip-flops!"), more water, and hats ("if you get sunburnt, the rest of the trip will be ruined!").

Needing entertainment, because no, he will not be subjecting himself to _beach volleyball_ , Atsumu goes to browse Hinata's small library. It's mostly notebooks filled with diet and workout notes; there's also an assortment of badly dog-eared textbooks on yoga, nutrition, and sleep, and three leisure books, but two of them are in Portuguese.

"Sorry, Tsumu," Hinata says, sheepishly handing Atsumu the sole Japanese novel. Its cover is shiny and new; there's an image of a woman in a kimono peeking out from behind a red clearance sticker. "Or," Hinata says, dropping his voice to a whisper, eyes darting over to where Natsu is zipping up her bag and testing its weight, "you could just play with us? Nobody's going to tease you if you're not perfect."

"No, I want to read."

It's a lie and they both know it. Atsumu hates reading, and a quick scan of the back cover reveals this to be a story of some depressed housewife struggling with an unfaithful husband in Meiji-era Japan. Why does Hinata even own this dreck!?

As if reading Atsumu's mind, Hinata clears his throat. "I've never _read it_. It was on sale at the airport, and I thought I might want it for my flight. I didn't know they had little personal TVs and everything."

"I'll tell ya how the book ends," Atsumu says, only realizing later, after he's changed into his never-before-worn beach shorts and tank top, walking briskly beside Natsu on the way to the bus that'll drive them to Hinata's favorite beach, that in saying this, he's essentially trapped himself into actually reading the damn thing.

* * *

The bus ride takes just over an hour. Natsu and Hinata sit side by side, heads tilted together as they whisper and giggle among themselves the entire time. Atsumu sits on the other side of Natsu, "for her safety", though having her as a literal barrier between him and Hinata feels a little too on-point, so Atsumu spends the whole time frowning down at his sandals.

When they arrive, the bus drops them off right at the edge of where the sand meets the asphalt.

Despite being explicitly warned multiple times not to leave Hinata's sight, Natsu takes off as soon as her feet hit the beach. Hinata positions himself to sprint after her, pausing for just a split second to point several feet off to the side. There, a man is standing behind a wooden stand surrounded by an assortment of beach chairs and umbrellas.

"You can rent stuff there," Hinata says in a rush, his eyes never leaving Natsu, and then he takes off running.

Atsumu watches Hinata disappear toward the sea and lets out a long sigh. It's immediately obvious why this is one of Hinata's favorite spots; the sand is smooth and clean, the air fresh and cool; there are palm trees scattered across the beach, and in the distance, huge, oddly-shaped formations dominate the landscape. Are they rocks or mountains? Atsumu isn't sure.

He stands, admiring the objective beauty of the place, even if it seems pointless without Hinata there to share it with.

Finally, at a loss of anything better to do, he turns and walks over to the rental stand.

"Can I get a chair?"

The man behind the counter just raises his eyebrows in return.

"I need to rent a chair," Atsumu repeats, a little slower and louder this time.

The man shakes his head, frowning, then finally says something back, but it makes no sense.

Oh right. They don't speak Japanese here.

Atsumu gives a little bow, hoping it means _sorry_ like it does in Japan. He crouches down to dig around in his bag for his Brazilian money, pulling out a thick stack of blue R$100 bills and standing back up, holding one out to the man, who scowls again.

Turning, Atsumu looks at the sign beside the man. It says, _something R$5 something R$5_. Atsumu squints down at the money in his hand. It's definitely an R$100. One hundred is more than five.

Atsumu looks back up and extends his hand with the money again, this time mirroring the man's unpleasant expression. The man starts yelling in gibberish.

A third voice chimes in from a distance, speaking in similar-sounding nonsense, but the voice is familiar: Hinata, jogging back to breathlessly rapid-fire back and forth with the man in Portuguese and save Atsumu from whatever was happening.

After a short exchange, both Hinata and the man are smiling and laughing. Hinata hands over a red R$10 bill and the man beams as Hinata selects a chair and an umbrella. The man even waves to Atsumu as he and Hinata begin walking away, Hinata carrying the umbrella and Atsumu carrying the chair.

Eyeing the umbrella, which is a bright, neon rainbow, Atsumu holds up a hand. "I don't need that—"

"Sunburn is a real issue, Tsumu! Just trust me! And then me and Natsu will be able to use it too."

They start walking toward the ocean, across the near half-mile-wide stretch of beach, before Atsumu finally asks, "What was wrong with my money?"

"Ah," Hinata says, peering at Atsumu out of the corner of his eye. "They don't like when tourists try to pay with big denominations. There's never enough change."

"They ought to be better prepared," Atsumu huffs, thinking of how easy it is in Japan to pay for a _¥_ 100 drink with a _¥_ 10,000 bill.

"Well," Hinata chuckles, but it sounds forced. "You know, the money changers at the airport only give out big bills, and so many tourists come here. There's no way these guys can carry around that much cash to have change for them all."

Atsumu sighs, frowning.

After a nearly ten-minute walk across the semi-crowded beach, they finally make it to the edge of the water where Natsu is waiting with crossed arms. "How long does it take to rent a chair?"

"Sorry," Hinata says. "There was a miscommunication. He doesn't speak Portuguese, and the airport didn't give him any small change."

Natsu, of course, immediately turns on him. She's wearing sunglasses, but the corner of her mouth quirks in a way that makes Atsumu want to kick her legs out from under her. "He didn't know he needed it?"

"I was in a hurry," Atsumu mutters, teeth grinding together and barely letting the words out.

"So long as he knows not to go waving around stacks of cash... But he's gotta know that, right?" She rests her hands on her hips. "You've been outside Japan before this, right?"

"Yes," Atsumu grunts. "I have."

"He knows not to bring all his money around with him." Hinata laughs, gently pushing at Natsu's back. "Now come on, Natsu! The net won't be free for us forever!"

By the time Atsumu finds a nice spot for his chair, away from most of the people, Hinata is already eagerly whispering instructions to Natsu. There's an area of the beach set aside for volleyball, further from the ocean and closer to the dunes, and Hinata and Natsu have laid claim to one of the many nets. The courts aren't marked with boundaries; these are clearly just here for leisure.

Hinata looks up, meets Atsumu's eyes, and runs over. "Everything okay?"

Atsumu busies himself unfolding his chair, pushing down and wiggling it with his entire body weight to secure it. He plunges the umbrella down next and kicks a small pile of warm sand at its base. He doesn't bother looking at Hinata. "Yes."

"Still... want to read?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Hinata says, hovering there just long enough to make it awkward. He waits until Atsumu is seated in his chair, under the umbrella, his bag cradled securely in his lap.

Hinata places his and Natsu's bags between Atsumu's legs, making a big show of taking out their money pouches and moving them to the innermost-pocket of Atsumu's bag. Atsumu finds this supremely annoying. He _gets it_. He's not an idiot.

"Keep an eye on everything, will ya? Thanks." Hinata leans down to press a kiss to Atsumu's lips.

"Hey—"

"It's fine," Hinata says, leaning back and chuckling as Atsumu glances around nervously. "It's totally legal here! Didn't I tell you? São Paulo's pride parade is the largest in the whole world!"

"Right," Atsumu mutters.

Hinata looks him over one last time, his smile set in stone even as Atsumu can feel Hinata's eyes piercing through his defenses. Finally, mercifully, without another word, Hinata turns and sprints back off toward the court.

Atsumu flips open the novel, holding it with one hand and resting it on the backpack. His eyes glaze over by the third page; it's so freaking boring and he really does hate reading.

For what feels like an eternity, he keeps trying to re-focus on the text of the book, squinting and attempting to discern the letters in the blinding Brazil daylight, but it's so dull and depressing.

If he were Tomo, he'd just stab her husband or something. Problem solved. He flips ahead a few pages and sees the novel doesn't really improve, so he finally glances up.

Hinata and Natsu have found another pair to play against. They seem to be tourists just out for a day of fun, as Hinata is barking instructions to the opposing team just as often as he is to his own sister, though he's using English with the newcomers.

Even as Hinata plays with three amateurs, he takes the game seriously, chasing after the ball as though it's the match point at Nationals every single time.

Each time he picks himself back up from a dive, more sand clings to his elbows and calves. Sweat pours from his forehead, down the back of his neck and drenching his blue tank top. This isn't even his job right now; it's just a fun afternoon with his sister, but he's bent over and panting, incapable of slowing down or not taking volleyball seriously for even a second.

Atsumu watches, engrossed, the book slipping from his hands and falling to the sand. He wonders how cold the ocean is right now. He could go for a dip, maybe.

Out of the corner of his eye, Atsumu suddenly realizes a small crowd has formed, women and men of all ages, watching with rapt attention. There are several other games going at the same time, but none of those have more than a handful of spectators.

He is not the only one to have taken notice of Hinata's exceptionality.

Before long, he can barely even see Hinata over the mob. He grinds his teeth and cranes his neck, trying to catch glimpses without giving in to the temptation to abandon the bags entirely. The chorus of languages is annoying, but he doesn't need to speak anything special to know what those looks mean.

Atsumu's willpower tanks especially hard when he finally overhears a few comments in English he thinks he can understand—two people eagerly whispering their thoughts on Hinata, on how he looks receiving a ball, and how he'd look receiving something else. Mercifully, before he can do something reckless, Hinata breathlessly calls for a break.

"Why did you call a time out?" Natsu is asking her brother as they run back toward Atsumu. "I was finally getting the hang of it!"

"I didn't like the way those guys were looking at you," Hinata grumbles, face dark.

Atsumu hadn't noticed that Natsu, too, was on the receiving end of the stares, but he supposes it makes sense. She's a teenage girl, objectively good-looking, athletic, and most importantly, also a Hinata.

"You always think men are creeping on me."

"They _were_."

"They were creeping on you, too," Natsu observes.

"Whatever." Hinata shrugs. "I could beat them up."

Natsu puffs up, offended. "So could I!"

"With all due respect, Natsu, I bench press more than you weigh."

She places her hands on her hips with a scoff, then finally turns toward Atsumu, but only to reach for her bag by his feet.

Atsumu realizes a second too late that he's still staring at Hinata, his mouth hanging open. He hurries to pick up his fallen book, but Natsu, kneeling by his feet, has her eyes trained on him long before he can get it back open to the right page.

Natsu turns toward Hinata. "Don't forget to reapply sunscreen," she says, digging around her backpack for some.

"Yeah," Hinata replies, still catching his breath. He pulls off his hat and lifts his shirt to wipe sweat from his face, revealing his muscular chest, glistening from perspiration.

Atsumu wills himself to look away but his neck seems frozen in place.

Natsu eyes her brother's damp shirt. "That's so gross! Why don't you just take it off?"

"I'd need to use so much sunscreen," Hinata mumbles, pulling the soggy thing away from his skin with a disgusted look. When he lets go, it glues itself right back to his skin.

"Sunscreen isn't that expensive," Natsu counters.

"I can't reach my back."

"Oh, that's fine," Natsu says, turning to Atsumu and raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure he'd do it for you."

Atsumu grips the book until his knuckles turn white, cursing Natsu in his head. It's not that he doesn't have Hinata send him photos and videos from the beach, because he does, nor that he wouldn't happily coat Hinata head-to-toe in sunscreen, because he would; it's that he very much needs to enjoy those things in private to avoid extraordinary discomfort.

Based on the way Natsu's lip curls, she's already figured this out.

Hinata seems to understand this as well, because even as he squirms uncomfortably, he shakes his head. "No, it's fine."

Narrowing his eyes at Natsu, Atsumu tosses the book back to the sand. He digs through his backpack—keeping it nestled comfortably in his lap, because that seems like a very good idea, especially now—and pulls out the sunscreen.

"I don't want ya to suffer, my little meat bun," he says, gesturing for Hinata to sit in the sand in front of him, eyes darting to Natsu to catch her appalled reaction.

"Your— whaa?" Hinata starts to say, giving him a look.

Then he shrugs and pulls off his nasty shirt, tossing it aside and settling between Atsumu's legs.

Hinata lets his eyes slide shut, relaxing immediately under Atsumu's hands. Atsumu kneads the dense muscles of Hinata's shoulders, relieving some of the tension he always seems to carry. Atsumu keeps forgetting to actually apply sunscreen as his hands move lower, massaging Hinata's upper and lower back, until Natsu clears her throat, giving him nasty looks that he returns with sweet smiles.

Hinata slumps forward with a low groan when Atsumu starts rubbing lotion into Hinata's triceps and forearms, pressing his chest flush against Hinata's back in order to reach the very tips of Hinata's fingers.

Atsumu's smile becomes a sly grin as Natsu fumes, her scheme to torment him foiled.

"The other guys are ready to resume the game," she says, trying and failing to sound casual.

Hinata's head snaps up, his face bright red. "Right! Sorry! Yes! I just need uh, some uh, water and then I'll be right there!"

Natsu grumbles and stomps off toward the net. Hinata hurries to slather sunscreen onto the front of himself and chugs half a bottle of water, then pops his baseball cap back on and puts his head in his hands.

"Sorry," Atsumu mutters, having an idea of Hinata's current issue.

"What was that thing you called me earlier?"

"Uhh." Atsumu clears his throat, glancing off at the reflection of the sun over the ocean's waves. "My little meat bun?"

"Yes, that." Hinata takes another deep breath, then stands. "That did it. I'm fine now." He gives Atsumu a chaste kiss and runs off after his sister.

* * *

The second half of the game is unbearable; with Hinata exhausted and shirtless, trying to watch him is like staring directly at the sun, so Atsumu actually slogs his way through a full chapter of _The Waiting Years_. By the time he hears Hinata and Natsu approaching and looks up, the sun is sinking low in the horizon, indicating the afternoon is finally giving way to evening.

"So I was thinking," Hinata says, standing over Atsumu, who still has to keep his eyes averted. "Before we head home, what about a quick swim?"

"Yes!" Natsu immediately rips off her sundress, revealing a conservative one-piece swimsuit. She kicks off her sandals next, and one nearly nails Atsumu in the eye, but he ducks at the last second.

"Sure," Atsumu says, standing from the chair and stretching, several joints popping at once. When was the last time he sat in one place for this many hours?

"I'll need to keep an eye on our stuff though," Hinata says slyly, dropping into the chair and beaming up at the two of them. "So you guys swim, and I'll take a break here. Tsumu, I trust you to defend her from creepy men."

Natsu and Atsumu turn to each other, their matching smiles paper-thin.

"I don't really want to swim without you, though," Natsu says, her lips barely moving.

Hinata waves her off. "I come here all the time. You two are the tourists." He's still beaming, but something in his eyes sends a chill down Atsumu's spine. He knows exactly what he's doing. "Go and enjoy yourselves."

Reluctantly, they walk together to the edge of the sea in a silent stalemate. They wade together into the ocean, trying to get as far out as possible, both knowing Hinata must be watching like a hawk. They have to stop fairly quickly, when the waterline is at Natsu's collarbone. It's barely at Atsumu's chest, so he has to crouch down to get any real sense of being submerged.

It's really quite beautiful, Atsumu has to admit. The water is refreshingly cold, but not uncomfortably so; the sunlight is still intense, but the sky is quickly turning a dark pink, and the waves are filling the air with a cool mist and a rhythmic sound that almost, almost soothes his simmering irritation.

"My brother wants you to defend me from creepy men," Natsu mutters. "But who's going to defend me from you?"

Atsumu turns to the girl floating beside him and the anger comes crashing back. "What the _hell_ is yer problem with me!?"

She stands her ground, tilting her entire head up to scowl at him. "I hate you."

"'Cuz I'm a guy?"

"What?" She jerks back, offended. "No! I was the first one my brother came out to! I don't care that he's bi."

"Then why?"

She opens her mouth, then closes it, eyes still furious. "He said I should be nicer to you."

Atsumu pauses. It somehow never occurred to him that Hinata and Natsu may have talked about him behind his back. "What?"

"He likes you for some reason," Natsu mutters. "I don't get it at all."

Turning to glance back at shore, Atsumu can just barely make out Hinata, a blurry orange speck under a rainbow umbrella. He takes a deep breath.

"Well, I guess," Atsumu mutters very softly, still focusing on Hinata in the distance. "I haven't given ya much reason to like me."

"It's not that," Natsu hisses. She turns away then too, following Atsumu's line of sight.

"Then what is it?"

"I never get to see my brother anymore!" She shouts, and Atsumu finally looks back to her, surprised to see tears in her eyes. "This was _our time_! I _hate_ that you're here!"

Atsumu feels something sharp twist in his chest.

Maybe he can't entirely blame her reasoning.

"Well," Atsumu says, voice trembling a little. "I'm here now."

"Right," she whispers, lip quivering. "And that's why I _hate you_."

He tries to think. When he was a kid, and Samu was upset, he usually just solved it by offering him food. That wasn't really going to work here.

"Well, yer just ruinin' yer own trip by actin' this way."

"I don't care."

Atsumu sighs. "There's nothin' I can do to make it up to ya?"

Natsu splashes seawater in his face. "You can go home."

He flinches and looks away, evading most of it. "I'm not doin' that."

"You'll wish you did," she says, huffing and crossing her arms.

He opens his mouth to threaten her back, but then shuts it. "I'm sorry I crashed yer trip. It was an accident."

"I don't forgive you."

He grinds his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists under the water, eyes boring into those of this stubborn girl. She looks a lot like Hinata, especially now, with her face set in such hard lines.

"Fine," he finally says. "Ya don't have to. But I'm still gonna try an' make it up ya."

She grunts and swims away. He lets her, directing nasty glares at any men who dare let their eyes linger on her for more than a second.

They wade back to shore a while later, once the sun is nearly half-hidden by the horizon. Just before they get back to the beach, expecting Natsu to sprint for Hinata, Atsumu gently grabs for the back of her shoulder.

Natsu spins with an angry hiss. "What?"

"I know what it's like, ya know," he mutters, not quite meeting her eyes. "To— miss him."

She pauses, staring, face unreadable, before turning back to the beach and dashing toward her brother.


	4. Chapter 4

They go to bed early again, this time because the plans for the next day are to hike Pedra da Mina, the fourth highest mountain in Brazil. It's a four-hour journey each way, so the mini bus will be picking them up at the crack of dawn. Hinata offers Atsumu some sleeping aids, and he eagerly accepts them.

When Hinata nudges Atsumu awake, it's not to sneak into bed with him, but rather to wake him up. It's only 4:00am, but they have to be dressed, packed, and ready downstairs within thirty minutes for their pickup.

The small tour bus is nearly empty, with only one other couple riding, so he, Hinata, and Natsu all get rows to themselves. Natsu curls up across the aisle from him and immediately falls back asleep, her head pillowed on her bag. Atsumu peers out the window, passively taking in the passing scenery as his breath fogs up the glass.

Atsumu feels a nudge and turns his head, half-asleep himself, to find Hinata sliding into the seat next to him.

"Hey," Hinata whispers, already kicking off his hiking boots and pulling his legs onto the seat, curling up. "Can I sleep on you? Like old times?"

He means like when they used to travel together on the Jackals bus. It's an innocent statement, a reminder of the years they spent growing close, but Atsumu suddenly wants to be very far away from Hinata. He closes his eyes and bumps his head against the window. "Yeah."

Hinata drops his head to Atsumu's lap and crosses his arms to his chest. Within minutes, he's asleep, mumbling softly and drooling onto Atsumu's denim shorts.

The day goes by in a blur. The hike is grueling, leaving little time or extra breath for idle chit chat. It's much harder than anything Atsumu ever did in Japan, with unclear paths, steep climbs, and sharp drop-offs. Hinata has summited the mountain twice—something that takes at least two full days—but today the plan was always a shorter, easier trek.

Even so, Hinata clearly didn't fully think through promising to go behind his mother's back in bringing his sister here, as proven by his constant freak-outs every time Natsu loses her footing for even a second.

Atsumu feels barely conscious, the sleeping pills Hinata offered him having left his brain wrapped in a thick fog. He hangs back, waving off Hinata whenever he stops and tries to wait for Atsumu to catch up. Mountain climbing is one of the lowest forms of exercise—sticky, dirty, and full of bugs—so the least he can do as penance for ruining Natsu's trip is stay out of her way.

He spends most of the hike staring down at his feet, resulting in multiple cuts and bruises as vines and low-hanging trees smack his face and slice his cheeks.

Whatever.

"Woah!" Natsu shouts, reaching out and stepping in front of Atsumu with both arms outstretched, palms out. "Watch out, man!"

He jerks his head up. Twenty more steps ahead, the path drops off a cliff with only open sky ahead.

Natsu looks him up and down. "You almost just walked right off the mountain."

Atsumu shrugs. "Well. Yer trip woulda been back to normal if I had."

She raises an eyebrow.

"You two wait here," Hinata calls from several feet away. There's a coursing river preventing them from moving onward, connected by a questionable-looking bridge.

They watch as Hinata goes to test the bridge with one foot. It wobbles precariously but he keeps going, gripping the hand-ropes and slowly making his way across the crevasse.

Atsumu leans against a large boulder and turns away from Hinata's risky passage, letting his eyes slide shut. Natsu takes a seat beside him, her shoulder bumping into his side.

He peeks his eyes open, just a millimeter, and as expected, Natsu is staring directly at him. "What?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothin'."

Natsu sighs, shaking her head. "You're being weird."

"I'm tryin' to give you and yer brother space."

Natsu narrows her eyes and tilts her head. "That's... weirdly nice of you."

"I'm a nice guy."

"Are you drunk?"

"Sho gave me sleepin' pills," Atsumu mutters, wincing. "They messed me up."

"Oh yah." Natsu nods her head knowingly. "He gave me those my first night. They're the worst."

Atsumu closes his eyes again and sighs, giving one tiny nod in return.

"So," Hinata says, walking back over. Atsumu straightens up like a guilty child in school, putting on his best fake smile. "It's sturdy enough for me, if you want to keep going, or we can head back a little early."

"I've seen enough, I think," Natsu says, craning her neck toward the rope bridge. "If that's okay with Miya?"

"Uh." Atsumu turns to her, surprised to be asked his opinion. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay," Hinata says, chipper as ever, as he begins leading the way back down the mountain.

"Watch where you're going this time," Natsu mumbles, elbowing Atsumu hard. She turns and dashes after Hinata.

Their descent is a little easier, the terrain more familiar, but there's still no time to take a break and actually socialize. They have to get down before the sun sets to meet their driver on time. At least they make more of an effort to stay together, with Natsu speaking up whenever Atsumu lags too far behind.

* * *

On the ride home, Atsumu waits for Natsu to fall asleep—which she does, less than ten minutes into the journey—before poking Hinata, who is already curled up beside him.

"Do ya think she had fun?"

"I hope so," Hinata yawns. "She really wanted to do that. She _begged_ me! I told her it'd be like that and everything, so." He shrugs. "It's her trip, and I want her to have a good time."

Atsumu falls silent, shoulders sagging with the realization that this is the first time they've spoken all day.

And his trip is already half over.

"You still need to do that too," Hinata says, nudging Atsumu to get his attention again. "After tomorrow, she goes home, and we'll have two days together."

"I don't want to do anythin'."

Hinata scoffs. "You must want to do _something_ while you're here."

"Besides you?"

"Tsumu!" Hinata bolts up, checking to make sure Natsu is still asleep. She is, but he still covers his face with a hand when he drops back to Atsumu's lap.

Atsumu shrugs, willfully pushing aside the dread that keeps trying to fight its way to the surface. He looks down at Hinata and thinks about being honest for just a moment.

_I think hikin' famous mountains is stupid. I just wanna spend time with ya, like this right now, on a bus is fine..._

Hinata is watching him in return, just as closely, and chewing on his lip.

He's probably just thinking about Natsu, hoping she's having a good time.

Atsumu knows Hinata's on cloud nine, playing with one of the best clubs in the world. He lives his life at full-speed, loves seeing new places. They communicate constantly, and Hinata's never had a bad day; he's never been homesick, whereas Atsumu had never left Japan except for work before, until stepping off the plane at Charles de Gaulle airport three months ago.

Even then, despite having been in one of the most romantic cities in the world, he and Hinata had immediately absconded to a nearby hotel and not left once. When Bokuto had asked about Paris, Atsumu said he'd seen the Eiffel Tower. He had: on souvenirs in the airport gift shop. Hinata was remorseful, later insisting they shouldn't waste opportunities like that in the future, but Atsumu didn't care.

Hinata finally breaks the silence, distracting Atsumu away from his thoughts. "Did _you_ have fun today?"

Atsumu hesitates. "Sure."

Hinata sits up. The bottom of his lip is red where he's caught the skin between his teeth too many times, tearing at it. "I don't think you did."

"I did."

"What did you like about it?" Hinata presses.

"The..." Atsumu searches his brain for something, anything he liked about it. It was exercise, which is fine, but he could do that in a gym with air conditioning and no mosquitos. He was with Hinata, but they couldn't talk, because the path was too narrow for them to even walk side-by-side. Objectively, the scenery was beautiful, but that's what photographs are for, photographs that other people could just take for him.

"I knew you were lying," Hinata says, eyes narrowing.

They've never fought, not once. Atsumu has never had a fight in any relationship ever, always dumping people long before it could happen, but he somehow knows that's where this is headed, if not careful.

Atsumu sighs. "I'm not lyin'."

"Do you regret coming here?"

"No."

"How did you get the week off anyway?" Hinata asks. "I thought we had a game?"

It's one small, simple word choice, but it feels like a punch to the gut. He sits up straight and turns, fully facing Hinata. "We?"

"The Jackals."

"Yer not a Jackal anymore."

Hinata's eyes are dark, challenging. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just a statement of fact, Shoyo."

He turns back toward the window but can sense Hinata fuming silently beside him. After a few minutes of this, Hinata reaches for his boots and starts to put them back on.

"If you don't take volleyball seriously," Hinata hisses, "you'll never make the national team." Once his boots are laced up, he moves two rows away.

The rest of the ride home seems to drag on forever. When the tour guide walks down the aisle to pass out their bagged lunches, of sandwiches and chips, the loneliness is suddenly too much to bear.

Atsumu and Hinata always used to eat together, whether they were killing time on a long bus ride with a meal exactly like this one, their heads bumped together as they watched a movie on a too-small phone screen, or whether they were standing in the parking lot of a convenience store and scarfing down rice balls between the end of an official practice and the start of a special after-practice bonus practice.

Standing suddenly, Atsumu takes two long strides to reach Hinata's new spot. Hinata has his feet propped up on the back of the row in front of him, his back pressed low against the base of his seat, the sandwich clutched between his hands like a squirrel. His mouth is full of bread when he turns to Atsumu, who sits beside him without asking for permission.

Hinata looks out the window and finishes his sandwich while Atsumu pulls out his own to eat. They sit together like that for the rest of the journey, silent except for the sounds of their chewing.

* * *

The walk back to Hinata's apartment is short but slow, all three heavy with exhaustion.

"Nobody go to sleep," Hinata announces as he unlocks the door. "We need to plan Natsu's final day."

"Okay, but." Natsu places a hand on Hinata's shoulder. "Before that, big brother, I love you, but you stink. You should shower."

It takes some needling and multiple assurances that they'll stay up however long it takes to finalize the plans, but finally Hinata relents.

The second Hinata disappears into his bedroom, Atsumu goes to sit down on the couch. He shuts his eyes for just a moment and opens them, surprised to see Natsu sitting right beside him. Where did she come from?

"I heard that," Natsu says, leaning in close.

Atsumu leans away. "Heard what?"

"On the bus."

Oh.

"Sorry," Atsumu mumbles.

"Don't be." Natsu dismisses his apology with a wave of her hand. "I hated today too."

Atsumu eyes her. "So—"

"He wants to go to the rainforest tomorrow," she says after a long pause. "I thought I wanted that too, but. I don't want my last day to be like today, where I can't even talk to him."

"I agree."

They stare at each other, Atsumu wondering how far he can take this ceasefire.

"Ya seemed to have a good time at the beach," he says.

"You didn't," Natsu reminds him.

"Maybe I'll play with ya next time."

"Only if you're really as good as my brother says you are."

Atsumu groans. "I'm an _indoor_ player. I've never played on a beach before—"

"I'm joking, jeez!" She says, chuckling quietly.

He narrows his eyes, sizing her up, but it seems... authentic, maybe. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Atsumu clarifies, still eyeing her with suspicion.

"Because you made my brother mad."

"And that... makes ya like me?"

Natsu rubs her chin, smiling a little. "Yep."

"Seriously," Atsumu says, exasperated and shaking his head. "What is yer problem?"

"Nono, it's not like that," she says, waving her hand through the air. "I love him, and I want him to be happy, but he's always so..." she trails off, sighing, thinking. "You must know how he is, always acting happy even when he's totally miserable."

"Miserable?" Atsumu asks. "Dontcha mean pissed off?"

"No, like, sad, homesick, you know, but he still insists on acting like everything's great all the time."

No, he doesn't know. Hinata gets homesick?

"I can never get him to drop the act, but you can. So maybe—" she continues, but then pauses and jumps away from Atsumu right before the bedroom door opens, followed by Hinata re-entering the living room.

"Who's next?" Hinata says in a chipper tone, a towel wrapped around his hair. He looks between Atsumu and Natsu, seated together on the couch, eyes narrowing. "What?"

Atsumu speaks up first. "We were talkin' about the plans for tomorrow."

"Why?" Hinata asks, sounding suspicious. "We already have plans for tomorrow. We're going to Parque Estadual da Cantareira."

"Well," Natsu says, hopping up and taking a step toward her brother. "Today was really long... and great, and fun! But, maybe, tomorrow, could we have an easier day? I just want to spend time with you."

"I was saving the best for last," Hinata mumbles, his face falling. "It's a national park, with rainforests and tropical birds. Your favorite."

" _Yer_ her favorite, dipshit," Atsumu blurts out before he can stop himself.

Hinata turns on Atsumu, mouth open, and takes a step forward as though about to launch into a furious tirade. But then, just as quickly, he stops.

Head bowed and shoulders sagging, Hinata shuffles off to the kitchen without another word.

"I think you should shower next," Natsu says, gently pushing Atsumu toward the bedroom. She gives him a wide-eyed, silent look, jerking her head toward her brother, as if to say, ' _See? See!?'_

It's the fastest shower of Atsumu's life, even as he grimaces at the thought of not thoroughly cleansing away the mountain's grime, buried deep in his scalp and tucked away under his fingernails.

Hinata and Natsu have already talked about him twice, at least, and he needs to hurry back before they have much time for a third. There's also the issue of Hinata's weird mood, and whether or not Natsu is out there trying to drive a wedge further between them—so yeah, no time for a proper scrub. He needs to hurry.

He almost forgets to throw on clothes in his rush to return to the living room, still wrapped in only a towel as his hand reaches for the doorknob. Atsumu remedies this at the last second, but his hair is still soaking wet, and he leads a trail of water droplets over to the sofa where Hinata and Natsu are seated.

Hinata refuses to meet Atsumu's eyes, so Natsu gives her brother a few pats on the shoulder and stands.

"The plans for tomorrow are all settled," Natsu says, stepping over to Atsumu. "We're just going to hang around here, go back to the beach for a bit, and then you're both buying me drinks! I'm also holding you to the promise to play this time."

He doesn't recall promising, exactly, but Atsumu nods. "'Course. I love volleyball."

He peers over her head at Hinata, but Hinata doesn't respond; he just stands from the couch and starts walking toward the door.

"Great," Natsu says, clapping her hands together. "Now my brother's agreed to pick up dinner. Those sandwiches were not enough after all that climbing!"

"Good idea," Atsumu mutters, then after a moment's hesitation, he hurries to follow Hinata to the doorway. "Are ya walkin'?"

Hinata doesn't turn around. "Yeah."

"Mind if I join ya?"

"I guess not," Hinata mumbles, shrugging as he slides on his shoes.

They walk down the dark streets of São Paulo together. It's less than ten minutes to Hinata's favorite take-out restaurant. They called ahead, so the food is bagged and waiting for them when they arrive, but everything seems to take longer when he and Hinata aren’t talking.

Atsumu hates this, the awkward silence. They used to get along so easily, so naturally. He isn't sure what went wrong, but he does know what's missing.

"Hey," Atsumu says, gently knocking into Hinata on their way back. "Tomorrow, why dontcha wear yer old Jackals jersey? I could take a picture to send back to the guys."

Hinata's eyebrow twitches. "I thought you said I'm not part of the team anymore?"

"Well," Atsumu blinks, taking in his annoyed expression with confusion. "Yer not. But it'd still be cute."

"Maybe I'll just throw it away," Hinata mutters, his pace suddenly quickening.

Atsumu stops dead in his tracks, watching as Hinata disappears down the street. It's so alike that night in Osaka when they first got together, yet somehow he feels more estranged from Hinata than ever before.

Perhaps it was an easy choice for Hinata to leave the Jackals after all.

He races to catch up, fueled by a sudden surge of bitterness. Turning on Hinata, Atsumu frowns down at him. "I wish I could toss away my past that easily."

Hinata shrugs, not meeting his eyes. "It's better than standing still. Or worse, falling behind."

"Ya got somethin' to say to me?"

"I'm saying." Hinata jerks his head to glare up at Atsumu. "It's better to move on than get stuck in the same place forever."

"Not everyone can just keep—" Atsumu takes a deep breath, fingers twitching at his sides, "—plowin' forward without any regard for their— their family."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ya missed—" he stops suddenly, hesitating "—Natsu's graduation! And she didn't even know who I was! Even though we'd played together for _two years_! She looks up to ya. What kinda example are ya settin'? That it's okay to constantly toss aside yer— loved ones?"

"Sorry that I have more than one friend."

"Excuse me?"

"Your best friend is your brother," Hinata says. "That's fucking weird, Atsumu."

"Better than never havin' a best friend at all 'cuz ya keep runnin' away from everyone."

"I've never run away from anyone," Hinata whispers, averting his eyes.

"Ya ran away from me today! On the bus! And I didn't even say anythin'!"

Hinata picks up his pace again, speed-walking in long strides, hurrying back to his apartment.

"Nice," Atsumu grinds out, scowling. "Real nice. Where the hell are ya runnin' off to now?"

"I'm _walking_ home to my sister," Hinata grunts, not stopping to look back. "I wouldn't want her to _miss_ me while I'm gone fifteen whole minutes."

* * *

Dinner is a mercifully speedy affair, everyone too physically exhausted to bother with conversation. They sit at Hinata's kitchen table, Atsumu and Hinata on opposite ends. Natsu keeps glancing between them as she chews on her barbequed meat.

Hinata is the first to push back his chair. "I'm beat. See you two in the morning," he says, flashing them both a tired smile.

"So I was thinking," Natsu says, hurrying to close up her own take-out container and then standing. "I have a really long flight home soon, so can I have the room to myself? And you two can share the futons out here?"

"Fine," Hinata says, his cheeriness faltering.

"Fine with me," Atsumu adds, trying to meet Hinata's eyes, but he's very intentionally looking away. "And ya don't have to worry about nothin'."

"Good." Natsu wags her finger in Atsumu's face. He blinks and looks up. "I'm keeping the door open just in case. I'm serious."

Atsumu holds up his hands in surrender. "I said ya don't hafta worry!"

He means it; he's not willing to risk Natsu's hard-won goodwill, and besides, based on Hinata's body language, he's not sure he'll even have an opportunity. Ever again, maybe.

Once Natsu is settled in the bedroom, Atsumu starts arranging the futons. Without a word, Hinata snatches a blanket and pillow for himself and curls up on the couch with his back to Atsumu.

Grumbling, Atsumu sits on the floor and stares at the Hinata-shaped lump under the blanket, racking his brain for what to say. He's still not sure what went wrong between them.

"Runnin' away to the couch now?" Atsumu mutters.

Hinata turns and sits up. Atsumu thinks for a brief moment they're going to make up—Hinata's going to say what's bothering him, come down to the floor, and they can finally start to enjoy their precious few days together.

Instead, Hinata pulls out his old jersey from under the throw pillow and starts to tear at it.

"Fuck you," Hinata hisses, trying three ways to pull apart the fabric, but though it crackles as he tears at its seams, the polyester doesn't rip. He finally stands and stomps over to the kitchen to dunk it into the trash with a dramatic flair.

Returning to the living room, Hinata slams off the lights and returns to the couch without as much as a 'goodnight.' 

Atsumu stares at his back for over an hour, scowling into his pillow. Samu's voice is in his head, reminding him not to _say anythin' ya'll regret_ , but it's hard to keep quiet when Hinata is acting so incredibly stupid.   
  
He could just leave—just get up, sneak out, and stay somewhere else for the rest of his trip. Or even better, he could change his flight. He'd be on a plane before Hinata even realized. Hinata would probably feel real sorry then.  
  
But no, because then he'd land back in Osaka only to have to face everyone's _what did you do_ and Samu's smug-ass _I knew ya'd find a way to screw it up_. Nobody would believe him, that Hinata was the problem.  
  
Better stick it out and keep fighting, then.

* * *

Atsumu wakes up in the middle of the night, but it's not because Hinata has moved to join him. When he sits up, in fact, the couch is empty. Blinking in the dim night, Atsumu looks around for what disturbed his sleep and finds his phone, glowing and buzzing against the floor a few feet from him.

He picks it up.

_i miss talking to you_

The text is from Hinata, timestamped just seconds ago. He texts back.

_Where did ya go?_

Hinata replies right away.

_why are you up_

_go to sleep_

Atsumu scoffs _._

_Hypocrite._

Nothing comes back for over a minute, so Atsumu finally sends another text.

_If ya miss talkin' to me, come back here an' talk to me._

Hinata sends back,

_this is easier_

Atsumu frees himself from the futon and stands, glancing around. He knows São Paulo can be dangerous at night, and Hinata isn't reckless or stupid, so he likely didn't go far. When he goes to the front door, he realizes it's still dead-bolted, so he sets about searching the inside of the apartment.

He peers into the bedroom first; Natsu is asleep on the bed, alone, splayed out like a starfish, greedily taking up the entire queen-sized mattress. The bathroom and shower stall are both empty, as is the bedroom closet. The linen closet is also empty. There isn't really anywhere else except the kitchen, so Atsumu heads there, even though it's quiet, pitch black, and seems deserted.

It feels like a lost cause until he steps around to fully inspect the small space.

There's a spot where the corner of the kitchen is obscured by the overhang of the bar, and that's where Hinata has curled himself in a ball on the floor. He's got his phone held out in front of him and the jersey draped across his knees. He doesn't notice Atsumu in the darkness; he's too focused on their text history, still waiting for Atsumu to reply to his last message.

Atsumu pulls out his phone and finally sends the reply he's waiting for.

_Why is this easier?_

Hinata stares, his face softly illuminated by the light of the screen, and starts to type.

_i miss you_

_We're in the same apartment._

_that makes it harder_

_'Cuz of yer sister? 'Cuz we can't be alone?_

_no_

_Then why?_

He watches Hinata start to type, then aggressively click backspace. Hinata peers down at his phone for a long time, lip quivering, and then pulls the phone and the jersey to his chest, clutching them tight with shaking arms. He lets out a choked sob, his entire body quaking with the force of it.

Atsumu hurries forward without another thought. "Sho?"

Hinata's head jerks up, his eyes wide and cheeks soaked with tears. "Tsumu! I'm, uhh—" He ducks down, rubbing at his eyes with the short sleeve of the jersey, but when he looks back at Atsumu, he's only made it worse, his cheeks and eyelids scrubbed raw by the filthy fabric. "I just came here to get some water, but now I'm going back to bed—"

He goes to stand up, but Atsumu steps in front of him and presses on his shoulders, forcing him back to the floor.

"Yer sitting on the floor in the middle of the night, textin' me an' cryin'! Sho, what's going on?"

Hinata tilts his head up and beams. His smile is just as bright and beautiful as always, but he's betrayed by the state of his face. "Nothing. I'm just super tired."

"Do I look like an idiot to ya?"

"Yes," Hinata says, grinning.

His tone is teasing and friendly, and it's an old and familiar joke between them, but Atsumu scowls and turns to walk away, not in the mood. "Fine. I'll just stay at a resort for the rest of m—"

Hinata reaches out to grab the hem of Atsumu's shirt, tugging him back. "No."

"Only if ya tell me why textin' is easier than talkin'."

Hinata's fist unclenches for just a second, but only so he can grab a larger handful of Atsumu's shirt. He doesn't meet Atsumu's eyes; instead, he concentrates on the cheap laminate flooring of the kitchen.

There's a long silence broken only by the loud ticking of a clock, but Atsumu is patient. He takes a seat on the floor beside Hinata, his knees up pulled tight against his chest, shoulders barely touching Hinata's.

Finally, very softly, Hinata gives the answer. "I'm afraid I'll get used to you being here, and then you'll leave."

Atsumu sighs. "Ya chose to come here."

"I know," Hinata says, voice cracking. He stuffs both fists into his eyes but it doesn't stop more tears from leaking out. "But I'm so lonely."

"Ya always seem so happy in yer texts."

"We've only been dating a little while, I don't want to dump all my... baggage on you, that's so lame."

"Well," Atsumu grunts, eyeing Hinata and resisting the very strong urge to pull him into a hug. He's still not great with this stuff, but he can sense it's not time for that yet. "Ya should've. I thought ya didn't even miss me."

Hinata looks over with a sniffle, nose scrunching up and eyes narrowing to thin slits. "You've never exactly said you missed me either, you know."

"I was bein' supportive."

"Right, so I couldn't let on that I was thinking about— that I wasn't perfectly happy here."

"Thinkin' about what?" Atsumu presses.

"It doesn't matter."

"Why did ya even leave?"

"I hit a ceiling!" Hinata says, frustrated. "I need to be the best. You know that."

Over the past two years, the Jackals had become so dominant that several prominent players, including both Ushijima and Kageyama, had fled the V League entirely for foreign clubs. Though it may have been Hinata's ceiling, it was, in Atsumu's opinion, a spectacularly high and incredibly enjoyable one.

"Maybe there are more important things," Atsumu finally mutters.

"Oh, stuff it, Tsumu. Like you don't have a meltdown every time I say Kageyama's name."

"That's different."

Hinata frowns, elbowing Atsumu hard. "Would you have even liked me in high school if I wasn't any good?"

It's hard to imagine that he would've, but the question is unfair, because they have six years of history now—

"See!" Hinata scoffs, interrupting Atsumu's thoughts. "Don't pretend like you don't understand."

They sit together in silence, side-by-side but not touching, with Hinata occasionally dabbing his eyes and Atsumu glaring down at the floor. The ticking of the clock wears at Atsumu's nerves; it's getting louder, he swears, and making it hard to think.

"But we're both miserable," Atsumu finally says.

"I'm not _miserable_ ," Hinata corrects. "I have friends here." He picks at the fabric of his shorts. "I just... miss my family, and my Japanese friends, and my old teammates, and you. When I try to think about staying much longer..."

"So come back to the Jackals."

"I also get bored if I stay in Japan too long." Hinata hangs his head. "I need the challenge sometimes too."

Atsumu tries not to feel too offended. "I'm not enough of a challenge for ya?"

"It's not like that," Hinata says, peering up at him. "You're at your ceiling too. If only you'd consider leaving Japan..."

Atsumu shakes his head violently. "I hate travelin' and don't wanna hafta learn another language." He'd miss Samu too, maybe.

There's another long pause. Atsumu watches Hinata out of the corner of his eye as he starts chewing at his lip again, tearing at it until it starts to bleed.

"Spit it out," Atsumu grunts. "Stop holdin' stuff in."

"I know we're Japanese, and we're raised to think Japan's the best," Hinata says in a rush, "but you know, there are _a lot_ of other countries, and some aren't nearly as far away as this one. Some are only like, a few hours away, and use English, which you've already studied!"

"So?"

Hinata groans, dropping his head to his knees. "Nothing."

"Yer sayin' I should consider a foreign club? After ya just told me how miserable ya are?"

"Only because I don't have my favorite setter with me."

"Stop flatterin' me."

"I'm not." Hinata turns his head, peeking up at Atsumu. "I mean it."

"What'd be in it for me?"

"Just a season, and if you hated it, I'd never ask you to do it ever again." Hinata scoots closer, finally closing the gap between them, resting his head on Atsumu's shoulder. "And during those months, I'd do all sorts of things— _anything_ , really— to try and keep you as happy as possible..."

Atsumu chokes on his spit. "Even—"

"—yes, even that," Hinata finishes with a timid smile. "And even if you ended up liking the foreign club, I would want to come back to Japan a few seasons at a time and stuff!"

It's not exactly the life he imagined for himself, but none of this really is. Atsumu never dated in high school, believed his brother and teammates when they said he'd probably die alone. Relationships required sacrifice and compromise, which is why he'd always avoided them, but for Hinata... perhaps he'd be willing to give it a try, if Hinata can meet him halfway.

"Ya can't keep holdin' stuff in," Atsumu says, sighing. "I'm serious, Sho. Ya gotta talk to me."

Hinata grins. "What'd be in it for me?"

"Love an' support?" Atsumu offers, the first word sticking to his tongue. Hinata hasn't said "love" yet. Atsumu hasn't either—to anyone, ever.

"What else?"

Atsumu rolls his eyes. "Maybe I can brush up on my English a little—" he starts to say, but before he can finish, Hinata jumps on him, knocking them both flat to the floor.

"That means you'll consider playing for a foreign club," Hinata whispers against his lips, then kisses him deeply before he can be corrected or forced to promise anything more in return.

This part is always easy for them, unlike trying to open up about feelings or vulnerabilities. Like setting a volleyball, no matter how long it's been, the muscle memory takes over immediately. They click back together instantly and seamlessly, tongues sliding together, Hinata's hand trailing down toward—

"Wait." Atsumu grabs Hinata's wrist and holds it in place. "I promised yer sister we wouldn't do anythin'."

Hinata groans, bumping his head into Atsumu's collarbone as his other hand sneaks its way up the front of Atsumu's shirt, tickling a line up his chest. "C'mon, just a quick little ha—"

"No." Atsumu pulls away, mindful to avoid uncomfortable contact. "Natsu finally doesn't hate me. I'm not gonna betray her."

"You're joking, right?"

"Yer the one who said long-distance would be fine," Atsumu says with a sweet smile, standing and extending a hand to help Hinata up. "C'mon, let's go to bed."

Hinata slides onto his knees and stares up at Atsumu with a pout. Whether or not he's doing it on purpose, Atsumu has to look away before Hinata takes his hand.

 _Just one more day_ , Atsumu reminds himself, _then we'll finally be alone._


	5. Chapter 5

On the morning of Natsu's final day, Atsumu once again wakes up alone. It's especially hurtful this time, because after their talk, the night had been so warm and comforting, with Hinata burrowed tightly against his chest, only the faintest wisp of hair peeking out from Hinata's cocoon of blankets and Atsumu's arms.

The smell of fresh oranges and toasting bread wafts over—likely what roused Atsumu in the first place—and he sits up with a struggle, still groggy from his first remotely decent rest in days. Hinata and Natsu are in the kitchen, chattering amongst themselves. Heavy iron pans clatter against each other, the faucet runs and shuts off, and then there's the deafening whirr of a blender.

Atsumu untangles himself and shuffles over, still blinking sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning," Hinata greets, bright and cheerful, already wide awake.

"My brother's making breakfast and I'm doing all the dishes, so you can relax," Natsu says, hurrying over to pull out a bar stool for Atsumu. He turns his head to blink at her once, twice, and then slides into the seat.

"We're having poached eggs over avocado toast," Hinata says, not bothering to ask if Atsumu likes this. It's his go-to breakfast, both tasty and healthy, something Atsumu ate a lot during the early days of their romance.

Natsu nudges Atsumu before resting her elbows on the bar counter, leaning over as she watches her brother take control of the kitchen. "Wouldn't he make a good husband?"

Atsumu rests his chin on his hands and grins. "Hmm, yeah, but maybe more of a wife."

Hinata rushes over to smack them both with a dish towel.

"Don't do that. We're not doing that," he says, smacking Natsu's arm first. "And screw you too, dickhead," he mutters, whacking Atsumu in the forehead second.

"I'm just saying," Natsu chirps back, grinning innocently. Then she turns to Atsumu. "Mom is always saying he's never going to get married if he keeps traveling and can't settle down in one place."

"Long distance is hard," Atsumu mumbles, noncommittal, sliding off the stool to dig around the refrigerator for some bottled water. Hinata is well-stocked; the side shelves are filled with numerous liter-sized bottles. Atsumu plucks one and stands, unscrewing its cap.

Hinata walks up behind him to rest his chin on Atsumu's shoulder. "I could've gotten you that."

"It's fine; yer cooking."

"You could always help me," Hinata murmurs, threading his arms around Atsumu and pushing him toward the stove.

Atsumu is a terrible cook, and Hinata knows this perfectly well. His only skill in the kitchen is convincing Hinata to get up on the counter "for a quick break", after which everything usually ends up burnt and inedible.

"I'm only good at distractin' ya."

"This is getting too gross for me," Natsu announces before Hinata can react. "I'm going to get changed for the beach."

Atsumu steps around Hinata, flipping their positions so Hinata can resume cooking, then drops his head on top of Hinata's. "Weren't ya just jokin' about yer brother gettin' married?"

"Yes," Natsu says, stopping a few steps into her retreat. "Because once a couple gets married, they stop having sex. Everyone knows that."

Hinata leans back and reaches up to put a hand over Atsumu's mouth just before he can open it to respond. "Don't engage."

Natsu wags her finger at the two of them. "I'll be back in _five minutes_."

Hinata waves her off, both siblings rolling their eyes at each other. He then goes about adding a dash of vinegar and sprinkle of salt to the boiling water. With Atsumu still glued to his back, he lovingly transfers six raw eggs into the pot, carefully calibrating the heat on the stove so that the whites don't spider out. He leans over to twist the dial on his frog-shaped timer; it begins clicking, counting down the three minutes it takes to perfectly poach an egg.

Then he scoots over a few inches, away from the hot stove, and spins until his back is pressed against the counter. "I think you owe me some distraction?"

Atsumu's eyes dart to the bedroom door through which Natsu has vanished. "I'm used to havin' more time and more privacy for that."

"We'll make it work," Hinata teases, tugging him forward. "Come on. Just three minutes."

Hinata would be hard to resist, Atsumu assumes, if he ever actually tried. Instead, he gives in immediately, ducking down just as Hinata surges up, their lips smashing together with surprising force. Hinata's hand snakes its way to the back of Atsumu's head, fingers tickling the back of his neck as they search for purchase in his hair. Atsumu feels Hinata's tongue pressing against his mouth, and he parts his lips. They both moan when their tongues slide together, hot and wet, only their second proper kiss in weeks.

The timer goes off almost immediately. Hinata ignores it, whining and wrapping a leg around Atsumu, trying to climb him like a tree. Atsumu grips a fistful of Hinata's hair and gently tugs his head back and away.

"Time's up," he whispers, dodging when Hinata lunges for his mouth again.

Hinata's eyes are unfocused, pupils dark, and he drops his head into Atsumu's chest. He sighs, taking a few deep breaths, then goes to retrieve the poached eggs with a slotted spoon, resting them carefully on a dish lined with paper towels.

Atsumu pulls him in close again as he works, glued to his back again. He slides a hand up Hinata's arm and gently squeezes his shoulder. Hinata shivers under the contact but keeps moving until all six eggs are drained.

"So," Hinata finally says, leaning back to flash a grin. "Ready to learn beach volleyball?"

* * *

After they've all eaten and dressed, and Hinata has taken a sudden extra shower, "because I'm sweaty from cooking," they all head back to Hinata's favorite beach for another volleyball lesson.

They're once again together on the bus with Natsu between them, but Atsumu is included in their idle chatter this time, though it's mostly Hinata giving advice to his sister about how to deal with the long flight. Nobody runs ahead when they arrive; Hinata handles the umbrella rental, and they all walk together to the volleyball nets where a pair of Italian tourists are already waiting for an opponent.

"We outta try our special quick," Atsumu suggests with a cocky grin, softly punching Hinata in the shoulder. "Has anyone here ever see anythin' like it?"

Hinata strokes his chin, thinking, then smirks. "No, they haven't."

This plan, however, is quickly set aside.

Atsumu scowls down at the sand. It's impossible to get his footing on this godforsaken... not _court_ , because it doesn't deserve such a word.

"Like this, Tsumu," Hinata says, showing him how to plant his feet properly.

They practice basic serving and receiving techniques for a while, their freak quick forgotten, as Atsumu learns how to just handle the uneven terrain. Time is hard to judge here, with no clocks and the sun a constant source of blinding light, but it feels like forever. Every five minutes of practice wears on Atsumu's body as though it's an hour of traditional indoor play, though eventually he starts to get the hang of it.

He'd almost forgotten how good it can feel to master something new.

"Much better." Hinata grins and goes for a high-five, sweaty palms slapping together loudly. Hinata grabs his hand and tugs him in close, pulling their faces together. "You're still going to be _very_ sore tomorrow."

Atsumu shoves Hinata hard and he goes down fast, landing on his ass in the sand.

"Uwaaa— what the hell, Tsumu!?"

"Don't touch me," Atsumu grits out, face burning red.

"Are you getting sunburnt?"

"No."

Hinata snickers as he picks himself up and dusts sand from his calves. Atsumu turns and dashes back to his spot.

"Again," Atsumu calls, wondering how the hell he'll be able to set to Hinata without _looking_ at him

It takes hours. They go through a full bottle of sunscreen, and Natsu has long left the game, calling them insane and retreating to the shade of their rented umbrella, but they finally pull it off.

Atsumu and Hinata both insist on doing it a second time, to be sure, and then a third and a fourth. A crowd gathers, muttering among themselves, impressed, the freak quick a new and exciting thing in the beach volleyball world.

They're exhausted, though, and Atsumu's skin is starting to turn pink for real, so they finally have to call it quits after a dozen or so successful executions.

Hinata sprints over, arms outstretched, and leaps to jump on Atsumu. "We did it!"

Atsumu side-steps him, feeling a little remorseful when Hinata almost loses his footing on the unexpected landing, pin wheeling his arms and nearly face-planting in the sand.

"Seriously," Atsumu says, shaking his head and holding out an arm to keep Hinata away, eyes averted. Hinata had to take his shirt off again, his hair is damp with sweat, and unlike Hinata, _he_ didn't get alone time in the shower this morning. "Stay away from me."

* * *

Later in the day, they take a cab to one of Hinata's favorite restaurants, deep in the touristy part of São Paulo.

Hinata leads them to the outdoor area, a giant, open-aired pavilion decorated with paper lanterns in all the colors of the rainbow. Twisted around the wooden beams are bright, tropical flowers, greenery, and statues of birds meant to look as though they're perched above. Some twangy acoustic song plays in the background, and several couples have already taken to the dance floor to sway softly to the music.

It's a bit much, honestly, but when Atsumu takes his seat beside Hinata and their eyes meet, he has to admit there may be a certain beauty to the place.

Hinata is helping Natsu order her first alcoholic drink—she's legal in Brazil, if not yet in Japan—when Hinata's phone buzzes. Hinata peeks at the screen. His eyes flicker to Atsumu, then he pockets the phone and finishes ordering.

Atsumu knows that look.

"Who was that from?" he asks as soon as the waitress walks away.

Hinata sighs, then fishes out his phone and unlocks it, sliding it over to Atsumu. "It was just an update to our running score."

"The roster isn't out yet?"

"No," Hinata says. "He thinks it'll come out next week."

Atsumu slumps down in his chair a little, face falling. The waitress interrupts to deliver the first round of drinks to their table: two Cosmopolitans for Hinata, a Blue Hawaiian for Natsu, and a small beer for Atsumu. _Someone_ needs to stay alert tonight.

"Who are you two talking about?" Natsu asks.

"Kageyama," Hinata says, reaching for his drink, his eyes never leaving Atsumu.

"You guys talk about Tobio a lot," Natsu observes, swirling at her drink with the little paper umbrella. "Why are you so obsessed with him?"

"He's probably going to be the starting setter for the national team," Hinata says, speaking these words as though he's deactivating a bomb; cautiously, slowly, eyes trained on Atsumu the entire time.

"So?" Natsu leans back against her chair.

Atsumu's head starts sinking toward the table. He can barely follow the conversation suddenly.

"Well, you know," Hinata explains, leaning over to gently cradle Atsumu's head with one of his hands, holding it up as though this will prevent him from going full emo-mode. "For a long time, Tsumu was considered the best setter in Japan."

"Do you only compete with him that one way?" Natsu presses, craning her neck to meet Atsumu's eyes. He's still slouched forward and moping.

"Huh?" Atsumu says, blinking.

"Tobio. Has he ever... set in a beach volleyball game?"

"Ha!" Hinata throws his head back. "No! Oikawa and I tried to get him to play with us once, and he _refused_." Chuckling, he picks up his first drink and starts finishing it off.

Atsumu sits up a little straighter, eyeing Natsu. "What's yer point?"

"Does he have a cool boyfriend like my brother?"

Hinata snorts, laughing and spraying pink vodka juice everywhere, specks hitting Atsumu's cheek. He pounds himself in the chest and coughs through bursts of snickering.

"So no," Natsu interprets, rolling her eyes.

As Hinata giggles to himself and reaches for his second drink, Natsu and Atsumu ignore him, staring at each other. She's obviously waiting for him to say something.

"What's yer point?" he repeats.

Natsu flicks the paper umbrella at Atsumu's face; thankfully the paper-side makes contact, sparing him the prick of a toothpick. "I'm _saying_ , maybe there's more to life than just being the best at volleyball, you stupid boys!"

The waitress returns then with an assortment of appetizers that Hinata picked out—baked cheese rolls, bean fritters, deep-fried balls of chicken, huge platters of barbequed beef, and a whole array of pastries. Each time she sets down a new dish, Hinata excitedly begins to explain why he selected that particular food and what makes it so delicious, at times forgetting himself and slipping into Portuguese.

Natsu and Atsumu share a look, both trying not to laugh. For the first time in days, Hinata's joy seems truly authentic and unrestrained, and neither wants to put a damper on it.

Between the ambiance, the music, and the food, Hinata and Atsumu's national team prospects are momentarily forgotten. An increasingly loud, sparkly-eyed, pink-cheeked Hinata dominates the conversation, with Natsu chiming in more and more as her own drink takes effect.

Leaning back and leisurely sipping at his beer, Atsumu mostly keeps quiet, content to soak in the positive energy of their company. He also takes advantage of Hinata's drunken state to learn an impressive array of embarrassing stories from his childhood, and as Hinata puts away yet another entire pastry, Atsumu distantly wonders how truthfully Hinata will record this meal in his journal later.

The song changes—Atsumu hardly notices; they all sound the same to him, except that this time five couples jump up all at once to hurry to the dance floor—and Hinata, too, starts swaying in his seat. It must be a popular song.

Atsumu and Natsu find each other's eyes again and shrug; the song is in Portuguese, so they have no idea what it's about, or who the singer is, or why everyone suddenly seems so moved.

Natsu kicks Atsumu under the table, light and playful, little more than a tap. "All those couples are dancing," she whispers, jerking her head at them. "You should too!"

He groans very softly under his breath. It seems like a very... gooey thing to do. To call it dancing would be _very_ generous; the couples are swaying in place, glommed onto each other. Two are just openly making out.

Still, it looks cozy, and he hasn't really had much opportunity to be close to Hinata lately. Natsu goes home soon, but two days after that he'll be on a plane himself. Regardless of what the future holds, they have another four months of distance before they can even think about finding a way to be together again.

Hinata is singing softly under his breath, tearing up a little, and he's downed at least four very strong vodka-based drinks in a short period of time. Atsumu realizes that Hinata, at least, wouldn't judge.

"Let's dance," Atsumu says, standing and extending a hand to Hinata.

Atsumu gets a smile in return, nearly buckling under the sudden weight of Hinata pulling himself up. He's unsteady on his feet, needing to cling to Atsumu to even make it to the dance floor. Hinata shows no hesitation in throwing his arms around Atsumu's neck and leading them in the "dancing" (read: swaying).

"What's this song 'bout anyway?" Atsumu asks, leaning down to try and get a glimpse of Hinata's face, which is hidden against his skin.

"Nothing."

"Translate a little of it," Atsumu needles.

"No."

"Why not?"

Hinata groans, burying his face deeper into the crook of Atsumu's neck. "You'll think it's sappy."

"Try me."

Sighing and leaning away, Hinata meets his face with a grumpy pout, but obeys. " _Without you,"_ he mutters along with the song, " _the loneliness enfolds me. Without you, I'm less than half._ "

Atsumu tries to bite back the grin but can't stop it from spreading. The lyrics are a little too on-point. "Yer right. That's gross."

Hinata shoves him away with both hands and crosses his arms, huffing, but Atsumu tugs him right back. "I'm kiddin'. I bet I'd be moved too, if I knew three languages."

"You're going to start brushing up on English though, right?"

"That's what I said!"

"I'm coming back next season though," Hinata mumbles softly. "I've been thinking about it for a while."

Atsumu's heart floods with warmth. He squeezes the breath from Hinata, incapable of voicing his joy. They stay like that for two full minutes, swaying to the music. Hinata keeps wobbling precariously; Atsumu has to tighten his grip to keep him upright.

"Yer gonna hafta try out, though," Atsumu says. "What if ya get rejected?"

Hinata steps on his foot, hard enough to make it sting, but not enough to dare risk injuring him. He peers up with a sweet smile. "Whoops, sorry. Clumsy."

Shaking out his foot with a pout, Atsumu knows he deserved it. Hinata could waltz right onto any V League team he wanted.

"As soon as I'm back, you know," Hinata teases, tracing Atsumu's chest with a finger, "your new training regimen will begin."

It's a nice thought, working directly with Hinata to finally defeat his nemesis, but it's not as though he hasn't been trying already. "What if he's always better than me?"

"I could start missing his tosses on purpose," Hinata answers with a crooked grin. "Make it seem like he and I are out of sync."

Atsumu shakes his head a little, smiling despite himself and making a mental note to force Hinata to drink a lot of water after this. He's clearly inebriated; Hinata would otherwise never even joke about throwing off his game. Atsumu wouldn't accept either, and Hinata knows that too. They're both too serious, too focused, and much too proud.

He flicks Hinata's nose. "That's the worst thing ya've ever said."

"He sleeps with a volleyball, and you sleep with me, so is he really better than you?"

"What?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Hinata leans back to smirk up at him. "I went over to get notes for school, and he got all embarrassed and tried to tell me it fell there while he was practicing, but it was like, _under_ the covers—"

"Does Natsu have a point?" Atsumu interrupts, not that interested in Hinata's high school anecdotes.

"About what?"

"About there being more to life than volleyball."

Hinata lets out a deep breath, pressing himself against Atsumu's chest. "The last two years were the happiest of my life."

"Mine too."

"So," Hinata mumbles very softly, cheeks pink. His eyes dart around nervously. "I'm going to tell you a secret."

"Okay..."

"I love volleyball."

"That's," Atsumu chuckles. "Not a secret, Sho."

"Shut up! I wasn't finished."

"I love volleyball," Hinata repeats. There's another long pause, but this time Atsumu knows to be patient. Hinata grumbles and bumps his forehead into Atsumu's chest a few times, but finally peers up with a grimace. "But I... love it a little less, when I can't play it with you."

Atsumu waits for Hinata to actually say the words, but he never does. They stare into each other's eyes, swaying, for nearly an entire song before Hinata groans and ducks his head back down. It's still too much for him right now, but that's okay. He has Atsumu.

"I love ya too," Atsumu finishes for him, pulling him closer.

"I'm still going to want to beat him."

"I know. Me too," Atsumu murmurs, thinking not just of besting Kageyama at setting, but also Samu at everything else—life, and happiness.

Hinata slides his head so that his chin is resting on Atsumu's chest, his eyes peering up. "I'm not used to falling short of my goals, you know."

"Me neither."

"Good," Hinata says, his mouth slowly curling into a smile. "So we're in agreement. I'll come back to the Jackals next season, but we're still going to take that starting setter position from Kageyama."

"Only if we're also so perfect together we make Bokuto and Akaashi's marriage look like— just a crappy hookup between Ushijima and that guy he can't stand," Atsumu adds.

"Oikawa?"

Atsumu shrugs. "I've never actually met him."  
  
Hinata giggles, imagining it. It's a high bar, but they'd expect no less from each other. "Easy."

* * *

The next morning, they wake up early yet again. This time it's just past three in the morning, and they need to get Natsu to the airport. She assures them she can go alone, that Atsumu and Hinata have earned some time to themselves, but Atsumu surprises everyone by being the first to insist that they all go together, though Hinata would've demanded it anyway.

They pile into a cab together and get Natsu checked in with over two hours to spare. Once her suitcases have been whisked away by the airline's conveyor belt, they go to browse the gift shops together until closer to her departure time. Everything is marked up at least 25%, according to Hinata, but Atsumu sees the way Natsu's face falls when he says this, the way her eyes keep darting back to the same large and massively overpriced stuffed parrot that appears every few shops.

After they browse a while, it's nearly time for Natsu to head through security, but the smell of freshly-ground coffee beans catches Hinata's attention before he can check his watch and notice. Natsu perks up and starts babbling something about mocha-sugary-blah-girly-nonsense, and Atsumu asks for a black coffee and says he'll be right back.

Slipping back into the nearest souvenir shop, he pulls out his JCB credit card and flashes it at the cashier. The young woman smiles and nods her head, then he goes to grab one of the giant parrots.

It rings up over _¥_ 6,000 before foreign transaction fees, but he doesn't care, signing his name and grabbing the thing—he can barely hold it with one arm, and he's almost twice the size of Natsu—then hurries back toward the café.

Hinata and Natsu's expressions when they spot him are perfect mirrors of each other, Hinata's mouth dropping open as Natsu's face alights with a huge smile. She crouches as though about to jump, but then pauses, thinking better of it.

"Wait— why did you buy that?" she asks.

"It's a gift," Atsumu clarifies, and Natsu immediately springs up with a cheer. "For ya."

Hinata shakes his head. "Tsumu, what did that cost?"

"Don't worry 'bout it." Atsumu waves Hinata off as best he can with a meter-tall plush secured under one of his armpits.

Natsu dashes over and grabs it from him. She has to use both arms to hug it against her; thankfully, she only has a backpack otherwise, as Hinata lectured her for an hour about the importance of packing light while traveling.

"Are they going to let you through security with that thing?" Hinata asks, eyeing her.

"It's her carry-on," Atsumu says.

"It's my carry-on," Natsu says at the same time.

Hinata sighs, but he's smiling. "Fine. I guess it'll make a good pillow."

They walk her to the entrance of security. When Hinata goes to hug her, it lasts long enough that Natsu has to be the one to clear her throat and check her watch, finally slipping out of his grasp.

"Well," she says. "Don't stay in Brazil forever."

Hinata sticks his hands deep in his pockets and glances around, high up at the ceiling, the departure signs, the lights—at anything but his sister. "Yeah."

"And you." Natsu turns to Atsumu, takes a few tentative steps forward, and then wraps him in a hug as well. "Atsumu, you have approval to date my brother on a probationary basis."

"What do I hafta do to get off probation?"

She peeks over at Hinata, who still seems fascinated by the list of airport codes, and then leans up on tippy-toes to whisper something in Atsumu's ear. Even at her full height, Atsumu has to bend down to meet her half-way. "Get him to move back to Japan."

"I'm tryin'."

She steps back, picks up her new parrot friend, and stands there for a moment, rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet. "Well, bye then. Thanks," she says, looking at Hinata, who finally meets her eyes. "Stay safe and come home soon, okay? I love you."

"Love you too," Hinata whispers back.

She stares at the two of them, chewing on her lip, then nods and turns to scuttle off through the security line.

"What now?" Hinata asks.

Atsumu turns to Hinata, whose eyes are a little misty, but it's also barely four in the morning. They have two days together before they need to come back here and do this all over again.

If anything, this ritual should just further convince Hinata that he was stupid to move here in the first place.

"Let's go back to bed," Atsumu mumbles. Hinata takes his hand and starts leading him back toward the entrance of the airport.

"Yeah?" Hinata bumps into him, possibly unsteady from exhaustion, but then he flashes a grin and catches Atsumu's eye, making it clear the contact was very intentional.

"To sleep," Atsumu clarifies. As much as Hinata has always been an early bird, anything before six is still nighttime, and this shit needs to stop, seriously.

Hinata starts to drag his feet, then stops suddenly when the words finally sink in. "Seriously? Even now you're going to shoot me down!?"

Atsumu keeps walking, lets himself bump fully into Hinata, pressing himself flush against Hinata's back, wrapping him in his arms and leaning down to press his lips against Hinata's ear. "Yes, 'cuz ya keep draggin' me outta bed in the middle of the night. I need _sleep_ , Sho."

He waits for Hinata to start pouting, which he does almost immediately, his head toppling forward with a whine.

"Then," Atsumu continues, "yer gonna play another game of beach volleyball, while I watch." He pauses and watches as Hinata's eyes slide shut. " _Then_ we can go to bed the way yer sayin'."

Hinata's entire body shudders and Atsumu smirks, pleased with himself. He might not have the willpower to stick to this plan in the end, but at least he's finally made an itinerary like Hinata asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥
> 
> Your reward for making it to the end is [this insanely gorgeous art](https://twitter.com/nyanayuki/status/1318959414888419330) by the crazy talented @nyanayuki of Atsumu, Hinata, and Natsu at the airport!! ;o;. ♥
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, as I sometimes wonder if anyone is reading! ♥ Thank you!
> 
> Let's be Haikyuu!! friends on Twitter @[dayoldcupcake](https://twitter.com/dayoldcupcake)!


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